Second Opinion

by Alexander, Hannah

  As he pressed the button for the doorbell, Archer picked up on the trail of prayer he had carried with him all the way from the church. He resisted the urge to demand from God an explanation of what good could possibly come of this situation. He simply asked God for guidance. Divine guidance. Gentle guidance.

  Archer heard the sound of creaking-wood footsteps inside the house. When the knob turned, Archer begged a final few words of prayer for self-control but he refused to fake a smile.

  Mr. Netz pulled the door open then stepped back and held it for Archer. “Come on in, Pastor.”

  Archer followed him into a cozy sitting room that Mrs. Netz kept decorated for company. He sank into the straight-backed chair across from the old deacon. He wasn’t in the mood to get tangled in the cushy folds of a comfortable sofa.

  “Say your piece, Pastor, then I’ll say mine.”

  Mr. Netz only called him Pastor when he was his most serious but there always seemed to be something serious going on around this deacon. Some people said he stirred up trouble just for entertainment when he got bored. Dad had disagreed with them but Dad tried to believe the best about people at all times. What would he say about this?

  Archer leaned forward, elbows on knees, and waited until Netz met his gaze. “Why did you call Jessica?”

  “I needed to know the truth.”

  “You’re saying I didn’t tell you the truth last Friday?”

  Netz looked away. “It would’ve been hard to sit right there in front of three self-righteous troublemakers and admit you’d done what they said.”

  At least the deacon had a good grasp of the situation. “In the years that you’ve known my family, have you ever known any of us to lie?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then you could have come to me privately if you thought I was too much of a coward to say anything in front of the others.” Archer could feel the sharpness biting at his words and he had to remind himself again to be gentle. “My private life is not subject to public display but if you were going to call someone it should have been me.”

  The gray brows lowered. “When your private life affects my church it is my business.”

  “What you’ve heard is vicious gossip. That isn’t something to base a decision—”

  “Why do you think I called Jessica? I wanted to make sure that what I had heard wasn’t true.” He looked away and cleared his throat. “I won’t have my church—”

  “Your church, Mr. Netz?” Archer asked quietly. “I thought we were God’s church.”

  The older man leaned forward, his wrinkled gaze sober as he pinned Archer with a stern stare. “Dogwood Springs Baptist has been my church home for fifty years and we’ve always had our problems. I saw a scandal back in sixty-five that like to have split us in two. I don’t aim for anything like that to happen to us again, not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Archer had heard about the scandal that occurred a few years before Archer’s father was called as pastor. Memories were long in Dogwood Springs and more than one of the natives had told him about the church music director—a single man—who had supposedly been caught in a somewhat compromising situation with a girl who was a senior in high school.

  The compromise? He’d been holding her in his arms in the hallway after church one Sunday. When the girl’s parents heard about it they demanded and received his resignation. Half the congregation was furious about it since the music director insisted he had only been comforting the girl who had come to him in tears about a personal problem.

  Archer should have heeded the warning as soon as he heard the story the first time. The people here were too quick to jump to unfounded conclusions. It obviously didn’t matter if the person they were hurting had been one of their own since birth.

  “Nowadays we make sure our staff leaders realize they are ministers, not just directors,” Mr. Netz said.

  “But aren’t all believers called to be ministers of Christ? And as ministers, shouldn’t we all avoid the specter of gossip in our midst? It hurts everyone it touches.”

  “That’s exactly right. True or not, those kinds of things cause trouble. Why do you think I wanted to get to the bottom of it? Lots of our old members quit coming over the years and they didn’t ever join anywhere else. It’s like they got sick and tired of anything to do with church.” He shook his head and sat back. “We can’t take any chances.”

  Archer felt a pang of empathy as the painful memories etched themselves across the old deacon’s face. Hadn’t Dad grieved over the ones who seemed unable to find a comfortable place of service within their membership? Even though church attendance was up, Archer felt the loss when he looked out over the sea of unfamiliar faces in the congregation and realized the changes that had taken place since Dad was pastor. It was disheartening.

  “Mr. Netz, even if your telephone call to Jessica was made with the best of intentions it upset her a lot. It might even have destroyed any future relationship there might have been between us.”

  The lines of sadness deepened. “I’m sorry.” The deacon twined his fingers together between his knees and studied them for a moment then he looked back at Archer. “May not be worth much to you now but I guess I’ve had a hard time believing any kid of Pastor Aaron Pierce could do the thing they claimed you did.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You haven’t forgotten my first name all of a sudden have you?” Netz chided gently.

  Archer hesitated. He wasn’t ready to forgive. He studied the deacon’s face and silently recited a prayer his mother had taught him as a child. Dearest Lord Jesus, keep me from sin, protect me from evil, and bring peace within. It wasn’t a mindless mantra but a heartfelt plea. He knew he needed to forgive Mr. Netz and restore their fellowship. The man had been sincere in his actions even though the basis for that action was a lie. But he’d gone about things the wrong way and he’d hurt Jessica and Archer and no telling who else. Even though he’d been sincere…“Please tell me you haven’t spoken to Lauren about the rumor.”

  Mr. Netz blinked at Archer in surprise. “That wouldn’t have been proper.”

  “You called Jessica. That wasn’t proper. What’s the difference?”

  “Tell you what I’ll do, Pastor. I’ll go pick up that telephone right now and call Jessica back—”

  Archer immediately leaned forward, hands upraised. “Please. No threats.”

  The man’s surprise deepened. “I’m not threatening. She needs to know the truth and I don’t think I explained things too well when—”

  “She knows the truth, Mr. Ne—John.” Archer saw relief ease some of the creases on the deacon’s face. And that showed more than anything how deeply he cared. “The problem is that she doesn’t want to be a part of a church that would carry that kind of gossip or even listen to it. The problem is…” Archer had to admit it to himself and the admission hurt. “She doesn’t want to be a pastor’s wife.”

  He could understand how she felt. In fact, right now he wasn’t even sure he wanted to be a pastor. But it wasn’t his decision, it was ultimately God’s.

  Archer stood up and offered his hand. “Thank you for seeing me, John. I trust you’ll be able to manage the others.”

  The deacon shook hands with him, his large calloused fingers firm and strong. “I’ll talk to them.”

  As Archer turned to leave he wondered if he should warn Lauren after all—just in case some other “well-meaning” busybody decided to get to the bottom of things.

  “Tell me something,” Archer said before he stepped out the door. “How did you get Jessica’s unlisted telephone number?”

  “I just asked Ruth Wecker. She’s the choir secretary and she has the addresses and telephone numbers of anyone who is active in the music ministry.” He walked Archer out onto the sidewalk. “That Jessica sure can sing. I hope this thing works out between you two.”

  “So do I.” But he could do no more to help it along. The rest was up to Jessica…and God.

  ***<
br />
  Lauren pulled into the hospital employee parking lot Thursday evening twenty minutes before she was due to start work. These night shifts were getting tedious. She would be glad when the hospital hired more nurses to work as needed so the full-time staff wouldn’t have so much overtime when someone got sick. At least Mitchell Caine wasn’t on duty tonight. That made a big difference.

  She’d reached the edge of the parking lot when she heard a familiar female voice call to her. She turned to find Brooke Sheldon jogging toward her from the end of the block. Her short midnight brown hair formed a dark halo around her exotic woman-child features as she ran.

  “I caught you! Dad told me you were scheduled to work tonight and he let me drive the car alone. Can you believe he trusted me? Aren’t you early?” She came to a breathless stop in front of Lauren.

  “A little. Are you going to the movies or something?”

  “No, I just wanted a chance to drive without Dad sitting three inches from my right shoulder gripping the seat every time I put the brakes on too hard or hissing through his teeth when I take a curve too sharp. You know how dads are.”

  “Yes, but I had a lot of practice before I took the wheel of a car. I drove tractors and trucks out on the farm. You learn quickly not to make a sharp turn or stop suddenly when you’re pulling a wagon stacked high with hay bales and smart-mouthed guys.”

  Brooke’s grin widened. “Can I walk you in? You have time to talk, don’t you, since you’re early?”

  “Sure.” Lauren turned and strolled beside Brooke. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Well, we were talking about dads. What’s yours like?”

  Lauren knew a fake pass when she saw one but she decided to play along. Brooke was up to something. It showed in the tender dimples in her cheeks. Her dark eyes filled with mischief.

  “He’s an old farmer and he makes a profit at it. He’s the best daddy in the world.”

  “Does he ever get cranky?”

  “Who doesn’t? Supporting five kids on the wages of a farmer and a cake decorator might tend to make a guy cranky sometimes.”

  Brooke snorted. “No way! Your dad decorates cakes?”

  Lauren rolled her eyes at the girl. “My mother does the cakes and helps with the farming but my father does most of the worrying for the family.”

  “What’s it like to grow up on a farm?”

  “I wouldn’t know how to compare it to anything else. I had some interesting experiences. I remember one day an old farm rooster got after me and hit me in the leg with his spur.”

  “His what?”

  “It’s this hard appendage on the rooster’s leg, shaped like a nail. They use them for fighting. It really hurts when you’re a little kid and you get flogged with one. When that old rooster hit me I screamed so loud you could’ve heard me clear into town. When Daddy heard me crying he went out and wrung that old bird’s neck. We had pressure-cooked rooster for dinner the next night.”

  “Eeeeww.”

  “It’s just chicken. Nothing gross about it.”

  “It would be for me if I had to kill it myself.” Brooke glanced sideways at Lauren. “You still call him Daddy?”

  “Sure. It takes a special man to earn the title. He isn’t just a father, he’s a daddy, someone who continues to love and support me in that special way only daddies have.” She saw that Brooke was still watching her with curiosity. “So why are we talking about cranky fathers? Yours couldn’t possibly be cranky.”

  “Nope.” Brooke looked away.

  “Not ever?”

  “Well… sometimes. Not too much. He used to laugh a lot but he doesn’t do that so much lately. He’s overprotective but Beau says that’s a good thing. Maybe he’ll outgrow it when we get older.”

  “Don’t count on it. Mine is still that way and I’m thirty-five. He’s always checking the oil and tires on my truck when I go home for a visit, and he asks me if I lock my doors at night.”

  “Do you?”

  “Usually.”

  Brooke grimaced as if she couldn’t imagine not locking the doors at night. “My dad wasn’t so bad until after Mom died but then he got carried away. I think he just needs more distraction in his life—you know, someone else to take some of his attention.”

  “He could volunteer to help out at the church.”

  Brooke shook her head. “He’s got enough stress in his life, he needs something…or someone…to take the stress away.” She looked at her watch then indicated a concrete bench beneath the willow tree where she’d entertained Evan and Beau while Gina was being treated in the emergency room. “You don’t have to go in yet, do you? Tell me more about yourself.”

  Lauren passed the bench and kept walking. “You didn’t hijack your father’s car just to get to know me better. What do you really have in mind?”

  “I didn’t hijack the car,” Brooke protested. “I asked him if I could drive out for some Chinese.”

  “And he said yes if you would drive straight there and back.”

  A sudden change of direction in Brooke’s gaze worked like a lie detector. “I’m on my way there. One little stop doesn’t mean—”

  “The Chinese restaurant is on the other side of town.”

  “I took the scenic route. Dad should understand because he’s always doing that. When we moved here he took the scenic route instead of I-44. It took us a whole day to get here.”

  Lauren glanced toward the ER parking lot. “It sounds like a nice drive. I need to get inside. It appears we’re busy and we could be short a nurse tonight. Is everything okay? Is something bothering you? If there is I’d be glad to get together with you later and talk about it. I know the move has been hard on—”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. Dad’s the one who’s having trouble adjusting. He’s lonely.”

  Oh, boy. How obvious could this girl get? “He is?”

  “I think it would mean a lot to him to have someone to talk to.”

  “He and Archer seem to get along well together. I’ve seen them holding some quiet conversations.”

  “Not that kind of lonely.” Brooke’s patience was stretching like an overextended bungee cord.

  Lauren didn’t allow herself to smile. “I know he still misses your mother. That kind of grief doesn’t go away just because you move to a new town. It takes time.” Grant would never have put his daughter up to this but what had given Brooke the idea that her father would be interested?

  Brooke was silent for a moment and Lauren thought longingly of the cup of coffee she needed before she started work.

  “So you’re really not after my dad’s body,” Brooke said at last.

  Lauren pressed her tongue to her teeth and kept a straight face. “Um, no.”

  “Don’t you even think he’s hot? I mean, would it hurt to go out to dinner with him?”

  “You’re asking me to go out with your father? The day we went fishing, I got the distinct impression you were encouraging me to go out with anyone but him.”

  “I didn’t know you then. I do now. You’re not the hillbilly I thought you were.”

  Laughter bubbled up in Lauren’s throat and escaped before she could stop it. “I grew up in the hills, so that makes me a hillbilly. I enjoy working with your father and I’ve come to think of him as a friend but he’ll need to procure his own dates, Brook.” One of Grandma’s favorite little idioms was “Never say never,” but Lauren could not imagine herself involved in a relationship that would connect her to this outspoken handful.

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “I get it. You aren’t attracted to Dad in that way.”

  “It wouldn’t matter if I thought he was the hunkiest man on earth, if I wanted to go out with someone he would have to share my faith.”

  “We’re Baptists aren’t we? What do you want from the guy?”

  “I’m not talking denominations, I’m talking faith. There’s a big difference.”

  “Dad knows God.” Brooke’s pretty eyes sparkled with the sudden gleam of
indignation. “He used to go to church with us when Mom was alive but afterward he just kind of gave up. He made us keep going but he didn’t go very much. We still pray before dinner.” She stopped walking. “He really is a great guy, Lauren,” she said softly, all the brashness suddenly gone from her voice.

  “I can see that and I understand that your father is a Christian.” Even if he didn’t believe it himself right now.

  “He can cook.”

  “I know.”

  “And he even does dishes and vacuums the carpet and scrubs toilets.”

  “Does he do windows?”

  Brooke frowned. “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  “What would one little date hurt? Dinner. A trip to Branson. Fishing.”

  “I know your father is a very special person and I know I’ll come to cherish his friendship. He’s lonely right now and it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to encourage a kind of relationship that might be misleading.”

  “How do you know it would be misleading if you won’t even go out with him one time?”

  “Has anyone ever advised you to get into sales?”

  “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

  “No.” Lauren grinned. This was the most single-minded kid she had ever met. “I’ve got to get to work. You’ve got to get dinner for your family. Maybe you and I can go fishing again next week.”

  Brooke communicated her distaste for the idea without the slightest change of expression. “Can Dad go with us?”

  “Sure. I’ll call Archer. We can set up a date.”

  “It won’t do you any good, you know.”

  “What?”

  Brooke gave her a look of sympathy. “Dragging poor Archer along. Don’t you think he would have asked you out already if he was going to?”

  Lauren caught her breath. “Brooke—”

  “Fine, don’t take my advice.” Brooke raised her hands in defeat. “At least I tried.”

  “See you later, Brooke.” Lauren said it a little more sharply than she’d intended.