by Stacey Weeks
“God’s not finished with her yet, son. And he’s not finished with you, either.”
“I know.” William kneaded the tight muscles in his neck. “Listen, I better go. I have a mess of paper work to fill out.”
“I’ll walk you down.” Dad wrapped a casual arm around William’s shoulder as they walked. “Keep bringing her before the Lord, son. God will never steer you wrong.”
“I’m afraid, Dad. I feel like I barely have a grip on all these things. The farm. My promise to Paul. Jenna. The church job. The possible T.V. show.”
“Scripture has some pretty strong words about fear. If you want Jenna to rely on God, you need to live like you rely on God.”
William pulled back and searched his Dad’s face.
“Scripture tells us to not be anxious and to give our fears to God. It reminds us to trust in God to meet our needs, to stay humble before God, and to cast our cares on Him. But you’ve got a pretty tight grip on your fears. Are you holding onto them because you don’t trust God to take care of them? Do you really think you can do a better job of fixing this mess than He can?”
“But the fire and the insurance, the bank. It’s such a disaster.” William’s head swam just thinking of all the paperwork ahead of him. He rubbed his right fist into his left palm causing the knuckles to crack and pop. He couldn’t explain the weight slung over his shoulders. How could he when he didn’t understand it himself?
“Faith and fear cannot co-exist. You either believe God is in control, or you don’t. It’s simple.”
William looked down to where Jenna mingled with the ladies. “No, Dad, nothing is ever simple.”
6
Muttering under her breath, Jenna led the way across Tucker’s front yard toward William’s truck. Why did she agree to carpool? It would have been simpler to drive herself. Then she could leave whenever she wanted. But no, Becky had to suggest carpooling. It would give her an opportunity to show William that she had moved on from his high school prank. Besides, carpooling was practical. Economical. Blah, blah, blah.
Now she was stuck in the clunky old truck, sitting far closer to William than was comfortable, trying to show him that she didn’t hold a grudge or carry a torch. She stole a sideways glance at his profile. The happy smile pasted on his face reminded her of the days they dated.
Unwelcome warmth spread through her body.
As William wound the truck toward the church, she drank in the countryside views unavailable from her city condo. Lake Superior played peekaboo with the fall foliage lining the dirt road, more visible now with the tree branches exposed. She busied her mind counting B&B signs but stopped when she realized that almost every grand home was now a Bed and Breakfast. Things had certainly changed in the last ten years. Did William see how she’d changed? How life had forced her to?
“Wanna stop at Booney’s for coffee?” William asked. He gave some morning walkers on the shoulder a wide berth as he passed them. They waved at William.
“Ah, Booney’s Country Corner,” she mused. “That’s a place I haven’t thought of in years.” The small 1980s building with faded white vinyl siding served the community as a restaurant, gas station, coffee shop, post office, variety store, and watering hole.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “We’d be right on time to hear the morning gossip.”
“What’s got the tongues wagging now?” She laughed and it felt good. She needed to laugh more often. Maybe this would be OK after all.
The fire at Linda’s place confirmed in her heart that she didn’t hate him like she thought. She stole a glance his way. Nope, she didn’t hate him. But did she trust him? She still wasn’t sure. He was, after all, related to Linda.
“About two weeks ago, twelve-year-old Sally Mae Brown grabbed her dad’s shotgun and accidentally shot her little brother’s big toe clear off his right foot.”
She gasped. “Oh, no!”
“They’re both OK.” He shook his head and clucked his tongue. “But her Dad nearly had a heart attack when he found out. His hunting guns have been locked up tight ever since.”
As Booney’s appeared on the horizon, Jenna reconsidered coffee. She dug her fingernails into her purse until the nail beds turned white. “I don’t know if I’m up to seeing everyone yet.” Her mind flashed back to prom night, to her humiliation.
“Are you worried the hens might be clucking about you?”
Did he ever miss a beat? Even after all these years he picked up on her subtle signals.
“Maybe a bit.” She flipped down the passenger-side visor mirror and examined herself. She had certainly changed from the dowdy, pudgy girl labelled “outcast” in elementary school—a nametag that stuck the rest of her educational career.
A small part of her wanted the former cheerleaders of Bayview High to know she’d survived everything they dished out. But, realistically, she knew they never cared ten years ago, and they wouldn’t care now. She flipped up the visor. Despite finally looking like the captain of the cheerleading squad, she had no desire to join their team.
“What are you thinking?” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in perfect time with the twangy voice on the country radio station.
“Just wondering about some of the other girls we went to school with.”
“We’ll have to reconnect you.”
Wow. Was William really that clueless? She sneaked another peek at his profile and read nothing but sincerity in his expression.
Reconnect with the cheerleaders? She held back a snort. Yeah, right. Didn’t he know how that humiliating night had changed her life? That night had profoundly impacted her and had altered her view of, well, everything.
“We’re here.” William pulled his truck into the church parking lot beside the van marked, Bayview Television Network.
Jenna sighed.
Great. The film crew was back.
Again.
Initially, she’d had no problem working around a film crew. William had explained they’d be recording him, and that they wouldn’t be in her way. But apparently, after recording a few snippets from their planning meetings, the producer decided to assign a cameraman to follow her. It didn’t seem to matter how many times she reminded him that she wasn’t the rising star, he unapologetically trailed her like a lost puppy.
She forced a high wattage smile before twisting to face William. “We might as well get started. Sitting in the truck doesn’t provide winning footage.”
“Welcome to reality T.V.” William chuckled at her expression. He reached across the seats and gave her shoulder a playful nudge before opening his door and greeting the crew.
Jenna got out and slammed her door shut, wishing it was that easy to force some distance back between them. She headed behind the truck to unload supplies and ignored the cameraman pointing his lens in her direction until the guy stumbled over some debris.
She reached out to steady him. “You OK?” She smiled.
“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.” He never stopped rolling.
So much for pretending they weren’t even there. “The ground’s a bit uneven up here, too.” She pointed ahead. “Watch your step.”
She glanced back at William, who followed her while animatedly chatting up the second cameraman on his tail far too much for her liking. Despite recent clashes over stain color and whether they should reuse the old pews or switch to chairs, he morphed into her happy helper under the spotlight.
“Where do you want this stuff?” He unloaded furniture from the back of the truck onto the gravel lot.
“Bring the furniture downstairs. I’ll strip and re-stain it there. The décor stuff can go in the sanctuary. I’ll deal with that later.” She stretched her arm to grab a bag of paintbrushes and William playfully swiped at her fingertip. Their eyes collided and, for a second, everything around them faded. But only for a second. Jenna broke contact and refocused on the loaded truck bed. Her jaw clenched.
He sure knew how to put on a show for the cameras, and she was playin
g right into his hand, like some love sick school girl. Not this time.
“As you wish.” William dipped his head and tipped a pretend hat her way. He hoisted a small chair onto his shoulder as if it weighed an ounce. His cameraman followed him toward the church.
She sighed, annoyed with her swaying emotions. Why did he have to look so good in his snug, dark work jeans, cowboy boots, and the confidence he always wore? It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to find him attractive. Why couldn’t he have grown a potbelly and lost his hair or something?
She shifted her weight from side to side, wishing she could fade into the background. Parker had taught her long ago the benefits of blending in. An unnoticed person didn’t get hurt. But, she had decided to do her best to help William make a great impression, and if that meant the wallflower moved center stage for a short time, so be it. She wouldn’t be the reason William lost this chance to earn the extra money needed to save Paul’s farm. Especially now that the house was burned and the insurance didn’t completely cover the cost of a rebuild. He needed this show more than ever.
She flicked her gaze to the second camera man. Was her longing stare caught on film? She forced a smile and with cheeky attitude and an indifferent shrug said, “I’m the brains; he’s the muscle.”
She followed William toward the church, balancing bags of brushes, stains, and rags. She slowed as they approached the scaffolding set up around the exterior of the building. She dropped her bags. What was all this?
William turned and shifted the chair in his arms. “Are you coming?” He nodded at the masonry crew and exchanged hellos with men he most likely worked with on a frequent basis.
“When did you arrange for this?” She didn’t remembering discussing the exterior of the church during any of their planning meetings.
“I always subcontract the brick work. Masonry restoration is its own art form.” He walked back toward her and set down the chair. “Is there a problem?”
The cameraman trailed behind them, recording everything. She bit the inside of her cheek. She had no desire to lose her cool on film, but they were supposed to be partners. She had planned to stain the brick lighter to update the exterior.
The cameraman twisted the front lens, probably zooming in on her stony face. She readjusted it into what she hoped was a more neutral expression. “We never discussed this. Why didn’t you ask for my input?”
William blinked.
“Partners, remember?” Her syrupy words belied her tone. She had been afraid of this. William had railroaded her once. She’d hoped for better, but history always repeated itself.
She flattened her lips. Her vow to help him was being taken over by a desire to strangle him, but she couldn’t exactly do that in front of the T.V. crew.
Deep breaths.
In and out. In and out.
She could do this. She could assert herself without tearing him down. She was a professional for crying out loud.
“We can still make changes to how it looks,” he said. “They’re only repairing the damaged brickwork. And, according to your boundaries—” He paused and put air quotes round the word. “—structural issues fall under my jurisdiction.” His gaze flicked to the cameraman, then back to her.
Her cheeks burned. How dare he twist her words? Especially on camera. He had no idea how hard this was, coming back here and working with him. She’d promised herself after Parker died that she would never let another man take advantage of her. She would be bold. Strong.
She could see her tiny twin reflection on the camera lens pointed in her direction. She half expected it to show a cartoon character about to blow a gasket, but it didn’t. She was holding it together—on the surface. The cameraman twisted the lens, zooming in.
Would the recording pick up on the subtext? This wasn’t a struggle about bricks. This was about control.
She filled her lungs to capacity and then slowly exhaled. She would never prove to William, or anyone else for that matter, that she really had moved on if she continued to coddle a ten-year-old grudge.
She needed to learn how to speak up while respecting William as her partner, and she needed to learn fast. Or her fear of being steamrolled would ruin this job. That would blow William’s chance to save Paul’s farm and destroy her career in the process.
“I think I’m going to head out for more supplies,” she said. “Can I use the truck?” She held out her hand expectantly.
He handed over the keys.
She collected her bags and hurried away. She needed some air, some distance from the constant cameras, and some distance from William.
~*~
Two hours later, Jenna dashed back into the sanctuary, panting hard. Wait until William saw this. She doubled over and planted her hands on her knees, inhaling deep.
Breathe.
She practically skipped toward William, beaming in spite of herself. “You won’t believe what I found. Come on, we haven’t got much time.”
He dropped the papers he held and plunged his hand deep into his pocket fumbling for his keys.
She dangled them from her index finger. “I have them, remember?”
His wide eyes raked over her. “What’s wrong?”
When his breath audibly caught, her stomach clenched. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry I scared you.” Her hand lingered longer than necessary. She yanked it back and giggled a high pitched nervous laugh.
William’s fearful expression relaxed into a smile. She must look off her rocker.
“The old schoolhouse down the highway is being renovated, and they just removed a beautiful original hardwood floor. There is more than enough for the sanctuary. I want it for in here. The guy will hold it for the next half hour, then it goes to the dump.”
The workmen surrounding William chuckled. They slowly dispersed, muttering something about women under their collective breath, until only the cameraman remained.
“Wait. What? Flooring?” William’s eyes slid shut and he leaned his hip back against the saw horse behind him. He scratched his head. “You’re giddy—over flooring? Jenna, you know you initially scared me, right?”
“Sorry.” But she couldn’t camouflage her impatience. “Come on. This falls under décor, does it not? My area of ‘jurisdiction.’” She softened her words with a grin and added the same air quotes around jurisdiction that he had used earlier on boundaries.
“Jenna,” William looked at the cameraman and lowered his voice. He tugged her closer to him. “I’m in the middle of something here. You can’t just snap your fingers and expect me to jump. I’m your partner, not your employee.”
She pulled back at his stinging words. “I don’t mean to sound bossy. It’s just, it’s perfect, William.” Her body sagged. He was going to refuse. “This is the part about my job I love the most. Finding surprising treasures with history and meaning.”
“This sounds great, but we already ordered the flooring, remember?”
She dug in her heels. “We chose it, we didn’t commit to it yet. And considering our tight timeline, I thought you’d be pleased to have something immediately. Waiting for an order to arrive could put us behind schedule.” She hated to beg, especially when the cameras were rolling, but she valued the floor more than her pride. “Come on, trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”
He let out a deep and longsuffering sigh.
“Please?”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “OK, let’s go.”
She had no trouble reading his unhappy body language. Her free floor quickly added up to an emotionally expensive find.
“Do you know how hard it is to install used flooring?” William muttered.
“Yes, but the money we save on the product will cover the extra man hours it takes to install.” Jenna climbed inside the truck.
“Except I’m the one who has to oversee those extra man hours.” William shut her door a little harder than necessary. He stomped around to his side.
&n
bsp; Wow. Even when he was steamed he opened her door like a gentleman.
He slid into the driver’s seat and twisted the ignition key. Heat blasted out of the vents, taking the chill out of the air but not out of the atmosphere. Why couldn’t he see how much this meant to her?
“When did this become about doing things the easy way?” She spoke softly, but as soon as the words left her lips she regretted them. They sounded harsh, no matter how softly spoken. And there was no way to eat them back.
“That’s not fair.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel and the muscle in his right jaw twitched.
She watched it pulse for a moment, then relented. “You’re right, it’s not fair. I’m not used to having a partner that I need to check in with. I’m used to just making these decisions on my own. I should have asked you what you thought before I made arrangements to take the floor.”
His tense shoulders relaxed. “Thanks. In the future could you check with me about decisions that affect my work?”
“Sure.” She smiled back, hoping all was forgiven and hoping the trailing cameraman had captured their happy ending. Would it be enough to make up for her earlier sourness? She wouldn’t forgive herself for ruining William’s opportunity with the reality show. She was willing to bet he wouldn’t either.
Suddenly, that mattered.
~*~
Jenna wasn’t prepared for how it had felt to walk through the gymnasium doors and participate in the community potluck prepared by members of the merging congregations. Despite the kind way the ladies pulled her into their circle the night of the fire, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t quite belong. She plopped her contribution toward the meal onto the table with the other slow cookers and casserole dishes and looked around.
Week after week, William had invited her to church. Jenna had used every acceptable excuse she could think of to skip. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in God, more like, she didn’t believe He was interested enough in her life to care about minor details. That was easier than believing that a sovereign God allowed her suffering. That He didn’t care.
But a potluck was different than a service. And it would be rude if she didn’t attend something put together to celebrate her work at the church. At least that’s what William had said.