Then there were the continuing tweets from women who’d attended the conference, saying she was a great addition to the team. She wanted to scream, I’m not on the team anymore!
She heard an e-mail notification and looked up from her slumped position at the desk. Someone had written on her fan page wall how much they enjoyed her message. She clicked to her Facebook window, went to her fan page—now with 317 fans—scrolled down, and clicked Delete page.
Are you sure you want to delete this page? it asked.
She leaned forward and not only clicked the answer but yelled it. “YES!”
She slumped back in the chair. She’d have to tell her agent what happened. The book contract would be gone. She’d only gotten it because of this platform, and now it was gone. She was sure the publisher would breathe a sigh of relief that nothing had yet been signed.
Every “blessing” she’d received had been stripped. The tears started again. This wasn’t a blessing, Lord. You let me taste what it could be like, then You yanked it away. She looked down at the clothes she’d borrowed from Janelle, and suddenly couldn’t strip them off fast enough. She got up, took off the jacket, tank, and denim pants, and put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. She walked into the bathroom and washed off all the stage makeup. Then she went and found the Worth & Purpose program in her tote—the one she’d tucked away as a keepsake—and slung it into the trash.
Her phone notified her she had a text. She walked to the desk where she’d left it and looked. It was from Janelle: I just know you knocked it out of the park. Can’t wait to hear!
Becca didn’t know what to text back. She didn’t know what she’d say when she got home tomorrow. She didn’t know what she’d do from here.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Sunday, January 31
Stephanie was glad she could visit New Jerusalem once more on her last Sunday in Hope Springs. She’d worked at the diner on Thursday and told Lila she was willing to work Sunday, but another server had been hired in the interim.
Stephanie loved Living Word, her home church in St. Louis. Dr. Lyles, the pastor she’d grown up with, was a gifted preacher whose Bible studies were used around the world. She was blessed to sit under excellent teaching week after week. But here in this little country church it was clear—Pastor Travis was gifted as well.
She leaned over to Janelle. “Is he always on fire like this?”
Her cousin nodded. “Every time I’ve heard him. When he starts teaching, he’s in another zone.”
Kory sat on the other side of Janelle, with Daniel beside him. Tiffany and Dee were beside Stephanie.
“Without Christ, you couldn’t string a coherent thought together,” Travis was saying. “You couldn’t walk and chew gum at the same time. Matter of fact, without Him, you would start to tilt as you walk”—people chuckled as he demonstrated—“because the earth would move off its axis and throw everybody and everything into chaos. Why? Because ‘in Him all things hold together.’ ”
Travis walked down from the pulpit area and looked among them. “You can try to live without Him if you want to—and believe me, I tried. I found out how empty that path was and how messed up my life had become. And in all my trying, I hurt people.” He paused with a sigh. “And when you hurt people because you tried to live without Christ, it’s the worst feeling in the world. And you can’t always go back and fix it.”
Stephanie and Janelle looked at one another.
Travis concluded his sermon a few minutes later, and as the worship team began playing softly, Stephanie leaned over to Janelle again. “Between Travis and Todd, Hope Springs has got a pair of gifted preachers.”
“You just never know who God will raise up.”
They watched as people came forward for prayer and were directed to the side for further counseling. In a few minutes Travis said the benediction.
Stephanie high-fived Tiffany and Dee. “You girls did really well. I didn’t hear as much giggling as I expected.” She was well aware it helped that they had candy to suck on.
Kory drove them all back to the house, and Stephanie checked the cars out front.
“Looks like Todd’s back from church but Becca’s not here yet,” she said. “I can’t wait to hear how it went.”
“She didn’t answer my text,” Janelle said, “but I know she was busy. I checked her blog this morning, thinking she’d post after the conference like she did last week, but nothing new was up there.”
When they stepped inside, Stephanie stopped to inhale. “Mmmmm.”
“Tell me about it,” Kory said.
They entered the kitchen where Aunt Gladys was holding court by herself, working pots and pans, checking the oven.
“Aunt Gladys, you didn’t have to do all this. You’ve got it smelling like Thanksgiving in here.”
“I can’t have my niece leaving without a special meal. That’s not how I roll.”
Stephanie laughed, hugging her. “Thank you.”
Kory got some chips and dip and planted himself at the table with the Sunday paper.
“How’s Grandma Geri doing?” Janelle asked.
“Stayed in bed mostly,” Aunt Gladys said. “No coughing episodes or anything. I’ve been checking on her.”
“Still withdrawn?” Janelle asked.
Aunt Gladys spooned out a bit of collards to taste. “Hard to tell if it’s the illness or the secret being out or both. But she’s not herself.”
News had traveled fast on the Sanders family grapevine. By the time Stephanie and Janelle returned from the Bible study, Aunt Gladys had called all of her siblings, save Aunt Gwynn, and told them what happened. Stephanie’s dad then called to get her perspective, and Janelle’s mom called her. And Stephanie was sure they’d talked to Grandma Geri and probably Todd too.
Calls had also gone out to Aunt Gwynn from all her siblings, but no one had spoken with her personally. With all the voice mails, she knew the secret was out and likely didn’t want to talk.
The side door opened and Claire dashed past the kitchen, then dashed back, poking her head in. “Have you seen Tiffany and Dee?” she asked.
“Good afternoon, Claire.” Janelle was smiling.
“Good afternoon, Miss Janelle.”
“I think Tiffany and Dee are out back. And, Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Let us know when your mom gets back.”
Claire shrugged. “She’s already here.”
Stephanie looked out the window. “She sure did ease in without us seeing.” She glanced at Janelle. “Should we give her some time?”
“Much as I’ve been praying? I’m going to get the report.”
The two of them got their jackets and walked over, entering the screen door. “Hello?”
“We’re in the kitchen,” Todd said.
But when they got in the kitchen, only Todd and Ethan were there. Ethan was eating a sandwich.
“We’re looking for Becca,” Janelle said. “Excited to hear how things went.”
Todd cast a glance in the direction of the staircase and sighed. “She’s up in our room, but she’s not doing well. They let her go right after her message.”
“What do you mean, ‘let her go’?” Stephanie asked.
“They brought her on board to replace a speaker who was having complications with her pregnancy. But the doctor cleared her to return. Becca had to step aside.”
“Oh no,” Janelle said. “I mean, it’s great for that speaker and her baby, but Becca was really looking forward to spending the season with them.”
“And beyond,” Todd said. “She was praying to continue with them next year. She had her sights set on an upward trajectory for her ministry, and now she sees it as plummeting.”
“But she shouldn’t see it that way at all,” Janelle said.
“I’ve been telling her that,” Todd said. “When she told me last night what happened, first thing I said was, ‘God still used you in a big way on that platform, and now He’s got another p
lan. He wasn’t surprised by this.’ ”
“She wasn’t hearing it?” Stephanie asked.
Todd shook his head. “Not at all.”
“Can we go up and talk to her?” Janelle said.
“Please do.”
Stephanie and Janelle ascended the steps slowly. What could they say in the face of such disappointment? The door was open and Becca was stretched across the bed.
Janelle rapped lightly on the door. “Becca?”
She rolled to her side. “Come on in.”
They pulled off their jackets, laid them on a chair, and sat beside her on the bed.
“Todd told us what happened,” Stephanie said. “I think it stinks that they couldn’t give you a good twenty-four hours to enjoy your moment. I mean, who does that?”
“Well.” Becca stared downward. “Finding out today, tomorrow, or in two weeks would’ve been worse. I’m glad they told me when they did.”
“How did the actual message go, Bec?” Janelle asked.
“Great, I think. I got good feedback from the other speakers and from people in the audience. I think a lot of women connected with the message. I was on a high until I got the news.”
“Which gives it a double stink,” Stephanie said. “Just my opinion.”
“Becca, that’s awesome news,” Janelle said. “Praise God that you got up on that stage and knocked it out of the park, just like I thought you would. God is faithful.”
Becca’s eyes shifted. “I’m having a hard time with that.”
Janelle paused. “With what?”
“All the prayers that were prayed, all the verses I clung to . . . ‘All things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you.’ ” Becca had raised herself up and spoken with authority; then she sank back down. “I memorized that, I believed that. So I asked God to prosper my time with Worth & Purpose, and to bless my ministry so I could continue with them, not only this season, but next year and into the future.” She raised her hands in disbelief. “And I got axed my first day on the job!”
Janelle looked sad for Becca. “You really shouldn’t see it like that. You did well. It just happened that you got the opportunity because you were replacing someone and the woman came back. But don’t let that take away from God’s faithfulness in working through you yesterday. How many people heard you speak?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe five thousand.”
Janelle looked at her. “That’s five thousand women you potentially impacted who could go on to impact someone else because of what they heard.”
“Shoot, now that you put it that way,” Stephanie said, “I agree . . . yesterday was incredible all by itself.”
“Incredibly humiliating,” Becca said. “I’ve been blogging about this, how excited I was about this opportunity, how I was believing God to do great things. I just want to shut the blog down and hide in a hole.”
Janelle sat up. “Becca Dillon, you have no reason to hide or to be humiliated. You—” She stopped abruptly.
Becca looked up. “What?”
“At the diner a couple of weeks ago, Sara Ann was encouraging us to sit down in our disappointments and pour our hearts out to God.” She looked at Becca. “I see so clearly how God used you yesterday, and I automatically wanted you to see it and be strong. But you know . . . it’s okay to be disappointed.”
“I’m disappointed, but it’s more than that.” Becca sat up. “I’m having a hard time believing God for anything related to ministry again. I’m not even sure I want to do ministry again.”
Stephanie was full from the meal and the love everyone had shown. They’d even gone around the table and let her know what it meant to have her there this past month. Grandma Geri had made it to the table and started off the words of encouragement. Becca had come, in spite of her heartache, and Todd as well, though he didn’t quite seem himself. And no wonder, given the bombshell he’d heard yesterday. And Libby had come from Raleigh—with a guy named Omar—both of them sitting across the table from Travis. Strange vibe that was.
Now, at dusk, Stephanie was taking a walk alone, thinking through her life and what her time in Hope Springs had meant. She missed Lindell terribly and looked forward to seeing the rest of her family, but she didn’t want to lose the connections she’d made here. And there was so much unresolved . . .
Her phone rang and she reached into her jacket pocket and frowned slightly.
“Hey, babe, something wrong?” She’d just talked to Lindell two hours ago. They hadn’t been able to talk every day while he was in Haiti, and certainly not twice a day.
“I felt like I needed to call you back,” he said. “You sounded kind of sad.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to.” She really hadn’t. She’d shared some of what had been going on in Hope Springs, but thought she’d done a good job of sounding upbeat and ready to get home. “Babe, I’m the last person you should be worried about while you’re down there. I’m fine.”
“I know, but . . . I prayed about it, and I don’t see why you need to leave Hope Springs tomorrow.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You set your departure date to match mine, but seems like Hope Springs is your own little mission trip.”
He paused to answer someone’s question, and she could hear voices and outdoor noise in the background.
He continued, “I’ve never seen you this into anything. Just the way you update me about your grandmother and the time you spend with her . . . this is impacting your life. And it’s a season you will likely never have again. Not trying to be morbid, Steph, but I’m a doctor. Grandma Geri’s prognosis isn’t good. You’re spending valuable time there, and there’s no reason for you to rush back.”
“Are you saying you don’t miss me?”
“I miss you so much I call you way more than I should,” he said. “But it’s not about me. I’m seeing that more than ever down here. Sometimes we have to live sacrificially, think of others. That’s what you’re doing. And I feel like I need to support you in that.”
The wind whipped across Stephanie’s face as her mind walked through all he was saying. “So what do you think? Another week or so? I don’t want to be gone from home too long.”
“I think God will let us know. Babe, I’ve got to go. I love you.”
“Love you too. Call me the minute you reach the States.”
“Will do.”
Stephanie held the phone. Really, God? You would have me spend more time here in Hope Springs? She hadn’t considered the possibility until Lindell suggested it. And it let her know how far she’d come in one month. She wasn’t fighting it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Wednesday, February 3
Chemo on Wednesday provided the first opportunity for Janelle to really talk to Grandma Geri about Aunt Gwynn and Pastor Jim, though she hadn’t planned to bring it up. She had the playing cards, DVDs, and magazines ready as usual. But instead Grandma Geri wanted to unload more of what she’d been carrying.
“She sees my sister as her grandmother, you know.” Grandma Geri had focused the conversation on Keisha.
Janelle was still making sure she had all the pieces. “That’s Aunt Floretta, right? Your sister in Jersey? So when Aunt Gwynn left Hope Springs, she went to stay with her?”
“That’s right. Gwynn couldn’t go back to school, and she couldn’t stay here. Would’ve been too much talk. The plan was that Floretta would take care of her while she was pregnant, and then Gwynn would come back.”
“But she never did.”
“No. She decided to keep the baby.” Grandma Geri paused. “Elwood and I told her she couldn’t bring the baby to Hope Springs. What if people saw a resemblance or somehow or other put it together that it was Jim’s? We thought we were persuading her to go ahead and give the baby up. Instead we convinced her to stay away once she kept it.”
Janelle was careful. “Grandma, why did you and Grandpa worry so much what people th
ought? Seems like that’s what drove this whole thing.”
Her grandmother took a minute to respond. “That’s just how it was. You didn’t do certain things. You didn’t get pregnant, and you certainly didn’t get entangled with another race. Gwynn managed to do both.”
“So Aunt Floretta helped raise Keisha, didn’t she?”
“Gwynn and Keisha lived with Floretta for years. Floretta was like a second mother to that little girl. To this day Keisha calls her Grandma.” Grandma Geri looked away.
“And you kept in touch with Aunt Floretta?”
“That was my only connection with my daughter and granddaughter,” Grandma Geri said. “Floretta would try to get Gwynn on the phone, but she’d refuse.”
Janelle was silent a minute, mulling her family history. “I knew Aunt Gwynn got pregnant in college and had to leave, and you and Grandpa wanted her to give the baby up for adoption. And I knew she went to stay with Aunt Floretta.” She tried to put herself in her aunt’s shoes. “I always thought she stayed away from Hope Springs because she was bitter toward you and Grandpa—which I guess is true. But I’m sure a lot of it was not wanting to be near the Dillons either. I couldn’t imagine seeing his parents time and again, knowing they couldn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge Keisha as their grandbaby. And I especially couldn’t imagine seeing Jim with his family. I can see why she stayed away.” She realized what she’d just said. “Sorry, Grandma.”
Grandma Geri seemed to be mulling their history as well. “I’ve sent letters apologizing over the years because I hate how it all happened,” she said. “But for the life of me, I don’t know if we would handle it any differently if we could go back. I know what life would’ve been like for them, for all of us.”
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