The Color of Hope

by Kim Cash Tate

  How did he know all that about her?

  He smiled. “And in case you’re wondering, it’s my job to know who’s got talent in the building. I’ve not only heard great things about you, I’ve watched you work with those girls this summer. The fact that you still wanted to do the clinic after you resigned at the end of the school year tells me you have a love.”

  Charley sat back, letting out a sigh. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Can’t believe what?”

  She looked up, realizing she’d said it out loud. “It’s nothing. Just . . . hard sometimes, trying to figure out what God wants me to do.” Her gaze moved to the pile of papers again as she took all of this in.

  “I’ve had some experience with that myself recently,” he said. “Can’t say I figured it all out, but I landed here in Hope Springs, so I hope I got that part right.” He shrugged a little. “What are you grappling with? That is, if you don’t mind sharing.”

  “I don’t mind,” Charley said. “In a nutshell, I returned to Hope Springs after college only because of the guy I grew up dating. We got engaged, broke up this spring, and I figured now was my chance to spread my wings and do something different. Might sound weird, but I want to be part of something God is doing. So I decided to give up my teaching job and look for a ministry position, or maybe something missions oriented.” She took a breath. “But I haven’t found anything. And with this offer, I’m confused again.”

  Marcus nodded. “Mind if I ask a couple questions?”

  “Shoot.”

  “And we can be real about God and faith and all that?”

  Charley smiled. “So . . . you’re a believer too?”

  He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a thin, leatherbound Bible. “With all my heart.”

  Her own skipped a little. Maybe that’s what it was about him. “Cool. And yes, we can be really real.”

  “Okay then,” he said. “I’m assuming you were praying about what God wanted you to do?”

  “Definitely.”

  “And you felt strongly that He wanted you to quit this job?”

  Charley thought about that. “I felt strongly that I wanted my life to take a different direction, to be more mindful of my purpose. I want to make a difference, you know?”

  “Absolutely,” Marcus said. “That’s awesome. But what I’m trying to understand is, did God lay the ministry thing on your heart, or did you ‘figure’”—he smiled—“that was the best way to make a difference?”

  The question struck her.

  “And while you’re thinking about that,” he said, “could there have been a slight thought that it would be easier away from here, after the breakup?” He raised his hands partway, easy smile. “Just food for thought. You don’t have to answer.”

  Charley gave a playful smirk. “Right. Just food for thought.”

  Marcus was right, of course, about the breakup. She’d spent all those weekends in Charlotte because she hadn’t wanted to run into Jake or his family. But the decision to move was something else. Or was it?

  “Sounds like you’re saying I should stay.” Charley raised a wary brow. “But aren’t you a little biased, since you need a coaching spot filled?”

  “Nope.” Marcus sat back. “Administrative hat is off. I’m talking to you solely as a brother in Christ. And I have no idea whether you should stay or go. I just don’t want you to think you have to work for a nonprofit ministry to be part of what God is doing. God is at work everywhere.” He gestured toward the door. “He’s at work in what you do with those girls, because He’s in you.” The smile returned. “But if you’re bent on getting out of Hope Springs, that’s another matter.”

  Marcus’s words rang in her ears as she entered the gym—and a volleyball sailed with force straight into the net.

  “You’ve got the power down,” Charley yelled. “Just gotta work on getting it over. You can do it.”

  Sam stood behind the baseline, head full of thick sandy-brown spirals bunched into a ponytail. Her hair, dominating her slight, five-foot-four frame, seemed to make the biggest statement. She nodded with a quick glance at Charley and focused on the ball in hand. Then she bounced it a couple of times, tossed it up a couple of times, and pounded it—into the net.

  “That is so dumb.”

  Charley turned around. Three other girls had entered with Kelsey, talking among themselves.

  “All that bouncing and tossing won’t help you get it over the net,” Tia said.

  Sam lowered her head slightly. “I see other people doing that.”

  Tia looked at the others, mumbling, “Yeah, and those other people have skills.”

  Kelsey caught Charley looking at them and whispered to Tia. They moved on.

  More girls arrived, and the chatter rose quickly as the girls talked end-of-summer pool parties and back-to-school shopping trips. Charley looked for Sam, wondering whether she’d found a pocket of conversation to at least listen to.

  It took Charley a few seconds to spot her . . . practicing her hitting, alone. And for the first time this summer, she processed the scene differently, wondering if she was already where she belonged.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Who would’ve thought Ladies’ Night Out would mean a Bible study?” Stephanie stepped out of the car in the parking lot of the Main Street Diner, noting the number of cars that had already arrived. “I remember hitting the clubs on Thursday nights.”

  “After all that driving and helping you move in, the only thing I was ready to hit was the bed,” Cyd said. “But I’ve heard so much about Soul Sisters that I wanted to check it out while I’m here.” She wagged her eyebrows at Stephanie. “Plus, I had to see where you used to work.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Stephanie walked toward the door. “Craziest couple of weeks of my life.”

  Janelle was at her side. “I wish Libby had come. Haven’t been able to get her here yet.”

  Stephanie nodded. “Yeah, I tried to sell the whole Ladies’ Night Out thing, but she wasn’t buying.”

  Pastor Todd’s wife, Becca, had ridden with them. The Dillon and Sanders families had lived next door to each other for generations, and Todd and Becca had also moved “back” to Hope Springs from St. Louis only the year before. “I’m trying to get Libby to come to the joint service on Sunday,” Becca said, “and not just because it’s being boycotted. I think she’d like—”

  “Wait, what?” Stephanie’s head whipped around. “Who’s boycotting?”

  “From what I understand, it’s—”

  “Hey, Stephanie’s here! Welcome back, girl!”

  They all turned to see Trina, Beverly, and Allison, all New Jerusalem members who had been attending Soul Sisters since the group’s very first meeting.

  Stephanie waved big, smiling. “Hey, good to see y’all!” She hugged each of them. “This is my sister, Cyd.”

  “I remember,” Trina said, hugging her. “We met briefly at your grandmother’s funeral.”

  “Sure did.” Cyd hugged the others. “I remember your faces. Good to see you again.”

  The group walked toward the entrance, chatting. The overhead bell tinkled when Janelle pulled open the door. Stephanie walked in and saw several new faces and many familiar ones.

  “I’ve missed y’all!” she exclaimed, moving with wide-open arms from person to person.

  She traded a few words with each, then saw Sara Ann. One of the few people born and raised in Hope Springs who’d never left, Sara Ann had worked at the diner for many years. She’d been instrumental in getting Stephanie to fill in for those two weeks, and Stephanie had come to admire her.

  “Sara Ann!” Stephanie said. “How’ve you been?”

  “Real good! So glad you’re back.” She was bubbly as always, gesturing around her. “So how do you like us on Thursday night?”

  Stephanie took it in, nodding. “I like it a lot. We get the place all to ourselves.”

  “Yeah, we kinda outgrew Saturday mornings,” Sara Ann said. “
Since the diner closes at three, this solution was perfect. Lila is more than happy to let us use it.”

  “Except . . .” Janelle looked forlorn. “Coffee and water aren’t the same as pancakes and sausage.”

  “True, true.” Sara Ann smiled. “But my mouth is watering for fried fish tomorrow night. I’m excited about the reunion.” She looked at Stephanie. “I always crash it.”

  “You’ve probably been to more Sanders family reunions than I have,” Stephanie said. “It’ll be my first one since high school.”

  “Wouldn’t be the same without you, Sara Ann,” Janelle said. She added quickly, “Matter of fact, I’m sure I can find some way for you to be on Team Estelle and boost our points.”

  “Really, Janelle?” Stephanie’s hand flew to her hip. “I know your little team is on life support, but do you really want to go there with open recruiting? Because, as I recall, there’s a talent show too.” She looked to her left. “And Trina can sing.”

  Janelle narrowed her eyes at Stephanie.

  Sara Ann had begun waving her hands. “Ladies, we can mingle some more at the end, but let’s take our seats and get started.”

  Most of the women had already claimed their seats, purses holding their places. Stephanie, Janelle, Cyd, and Becca headed for an empty table for six just as the bell tinkled again, announcing another comer.

  Janelle looked surprised, then popped over to hug the young blond woman and pull her toward their table, where Becca rose to greet her as well.

  “Stephanie, Cyd,” Janelle said. “This is Charley—”

  “Oh my goodness, I have that.” Stephanie pointed at Charley’s red shirt with ALIEN in big letters on the front and I PETER 2:II in smaller print beneath. “Except mine is black with white digital-looking letters.”

  “No way, that was the limited edition one,” Charley said. “I tried to order it from the website, but it was sold out. You must’ve jumped on it early.”

  “Actually, I just . . . took one. Alien—Brian—is my brother-in-law.”

  “Shut. Up.” Charley grabbed her forearm. “He’s my absolute favorite Christian rapper. Saw him in Charlotte this May with his wife, heard their beautiful testimony.” She paused. “You’re serious, they’re your fam—”

  “Ladies . . .”

  They glanced up and saw they were the only ones still standing.

  “Uh, sorry, Sara Ann,” Stephanie said, and she and Charley quickly sat down.

  “You all know we’re not big on formalities around here,” Sara Ann continued, “but we are big on sisterhood”—she grinned—“so like it or not, we ask newcomers to introduce themselves.” She turned to Stephanie’s table. “And all our newcomers are at the same table, though you’re not all new exactly. Tell us your name, where you’re from, and how God led you to Soul Sisters. And, Stephanie, since you’re already in a talkative mood, why don’t you start?”

  “Ha. Ha.” Stephanie stood, smiling. “I’m Stephanie London, from St. Louis, moved to Hope Springs today—”

  A round of cheers went up.

  “—and I was at the very first Soul Sisters, as a server at the diner.” She held up a hand. “Long story. Had to do with spiritual boot camp, God, and Sara Ann twisting my arm, but I survived. Barely.” She grinned and sat down.

  Cyd stood next. “I’m Stephanie’s sister, Cyd, from St. Louis, in town for our family reunion. Steph and my cousin Janelle told me about Soul Sisters from the time it started, so I’m excited to finally come and meet everybody.”

  Charley stood. “Hey, I’m Charley Willoughby, born and raised in Hope Springs. I came to Soul Sisters back in March and the first part of April. But then . . . well, my fiancé and I broke up, and to be honest, I was kind of embarrassed and wanted to avoid all the questions.”

  “Girl, you don’t need to be embarrassed around us,” Beverly said. “I was wondering what happened to you. Even looked for you at the joint services. We’ve missed you.”

  Charley smiled. “I missed y’all too. I’ve been thinking through some things today, and Soul Sisters came to mind. That’s what led me to come back.”

  “Well, I’m feeling good tonight,” Sara Ann said. “Stephanie’s a new resident of Hope Springs, Cyd’s in town, and Charley’s back.” She scanned the group. “Any announcements or other housekeeping matters before we get started?”

  Trina’s hand went up. “Beverly mentioned the combined service. We’ve been praying for it from the beginning, and Pastor Travis and Pastor Todd even said Soul Sisters inspired it. But I’m afraid of what’ll happen now that there’s this boycott on Sunday.”

  “Who’s boycotting?” another woman asked.

  A few voices clamored at once.

  Violet, a Calvary member in her seventies, stood, and the women quieted. “Skip Willoughby’s the one who started it. Called me today and told me not to go. And I told him a thing or two in response.” Ever full of spunk, she sat back down.

  Willoughby? Stephanie couldn’t help but glance at Charley. Had to be related to her somehow.

  “Ladies, ladies!” Sara Ann tried to quell the noise, but so many pockets of conversation had erupted that her voice was barely audible. She walked closer to their table. “Becca? Could you say something? You probably know more than anybody here.”

  Becca hesitated. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything, because I might be too close to the situation. But I’ll try.”

  She got up and walked to the center of the tables, and the women grew quiet, probably thinking they were about to get some juicy tidbit.

  “Sounds like a lot of you are upset about this.” Becca had a calming way about her. “And understandably so. But we shouldn’t be surprised. There was opposition from the beginning. The boycott is just the latest thing.” She sighed. “Todd and Travis have suffered a lot of blowback from people in both churches. We know the real struggle is not flesh and blood, so let’s keep praying. Todd is convinced that our prayers are the reason that more and more people are coming to the services from outside of Hope Springs. Boycott or no, let’s pray for a packed house on Sunday.”

  “Amen!” rang out in the room as Becca took her seat.

  “Thanks, Becca,” Sara Ann said. “Sounds like we’ll be doing a lot more praying than mingling at the end.” Her eyes took a mischievous turn. “But right now, I’m wondering if everybody’s ready to spend the next week focused on hospitality.”

  A couple of women groaned. “That’s just not me,” one said.

  Sara Ann laughed. “Isn’t that the whole point? To be like . . .” She cupped her ear.

  “Him!” the women shouted.

  Stephanie’s brow creased. “What’s that about?”

  Janelle leaned over. “Our latest study—’Like Him.’ Every week we focus on a different attribute of Jesus or a godly character trait.”

  “I’m just saying,” the first woman insisted, “whenever I think about having people over, I get hung up on the food. I’m not good at cooking for people. By the time I go round and round with it, I just say forget it.”

  “Well, Soul Sisters to the rescue!” Sara Ann said. “Seriously, I need a lot of work in this area myself, but that’s why we’re doing this. Let’s see what the Bible says about hospitality and look at some examples from Sarah to Martha.” She turned to the table beside Stephanie’s. “Then we’ve got a special treat. Trina’s gonna come up and give us some tips.” She smiled. “And if she did like I told her, she brought some recipes to share with us too.”