“Let’s do lunch next week.” Julie’s words came out quickly.
Grace answered, “Sure,” although, honestly, she’d rather have to move again. She waved and hurried away before Julie could remember her promise to see her home.
It was dark when Grace emerged from the hotel. And she was alone—again. She drove the few miles to her new home, a home that felt no more hers than the man who had kissed her tonight. She took Miss Daisy outside to do her business and then walked into the bathroom and studied her face. She didn’t see tired. She saw weary. And weary ran to deep-down places.
She slipped into her pajamas and wandered into the kitchen. She didn’t really want to unpack, but she didn’t feel like sleep either. Three hours later she took the last cardboard box that had held her kitchen stuff out to the garage and stacked it with the other thirty cartons she had emptied that day. Her kitchen was officially in working order, so now she could at least function. As she climbed the few stairs into the house, she rubbed her right shoulder. Her rotator cuff had been giving her a fit for the last three months.
The green fluorescent numbers on the microwave and the stove announced she had worked away most of her sleeping hours. She’d pay for that tomorrow.
Miss Daisy was snoozing in the family room, stretched out on her cheetah-print ottoman in front of the fireplace. Her body operated on Grace’s clock, and at least she’d had sense enough to know when to go to sleep.
Grace picked the creature up in her arms and headed to the bedroom. “Come on, Miss Daisy. Let’s get an ounce of shut-eye.”
She set Miss Daisy down on the end of the bed, then walked into the bathroom. She stared at her reflection again and winced. There wasn’t enough concealer in the Deep South to hide the dark circles that had embedded themselves under her eyes. She brushed her teeth, set the alarm for an hour later, and climbed into bed. Alone.
She laid her head on the pillow. Every piece of her seemed to melt into the bed. Her thoughts went to the day she had spent. The early morning. The boxes. The kiss. Disappointment stirred. She pushed it down. She needed to sleep, and she couldn’t do that if she stayed angry.
“We’ve really gotten ourselves into a mess, haven’t we, Miss Daisy?”
Miss Daisy only snored.
“Me too, sweetie. Me too.” Grace closed her eyes.
She opened them again slowly when she heard the bedroom door ease open. She allowed the illuminated numbers on the alarm clock next to the bed to register. Almost two in the morning.
Tyler spent a long time in the bathroom. Then she felt the mattress yield as his body finally made its way beside her.
She rolled over and snuggled up against him, wrapping her arm around his waist. Somewhere past that disappointment lay the nagging hope that the kiss he’d given her tonight might actually have been an open door. “Did y’all have fun?”
He placed his arm over hers and laid a hand on top of her own. “Yeah. It was great.” His words sounded only slightly slurred.
She moved her nose up under his ear and lay there quietly for a while. Finally working up the nerve, she spoke. “Kiss me now, Tyler. Right here. Just the two of us. With no one else here.”
He was quiet. Not a word.
A lump climbed to her throat quicker than the pain could get to her heart. She raised her head. Light from the DVR cast a soft glow on Tyler’s sleeping face. The sound of snoring followed only a moment later.
She lifted her body from the bed. She hated herself for asking. It was as if she loved to set herself up.
A tear made its way down the side of her face before she even knew it was coming. She wiped it away quickly. Not now. She didn’t have time to cry now. It was time to go to work. She willed the tears to dry as she walked into the bathroom, turned the nozzle, and listened to the water rush from the showerhead. In two hours it would be lights, camera, action. And once again, the makeup, the pretty outfit, and the perfect smile would cover all the pain.
Scarlett Jo stood at the front entrance of the church, a stack of bulletins in her hand, eyes peeled for her new neighbor. She had visited Grace Shepherd three times this week. By the third visit she had mentioned the church. She hadn’t wanted to push too hard. But come to find out, Grace and her husband were looking for a church. So this morning, while passing out bulletins and greeting members and guests, she silently prayed that Grace wouldn’t back out.
“Scarlett, I do think your outfit is as orange as my last pumpkin.”
Scarlett Jo never let Sylvia Malone spoil her day, even if the woman refused to call her by her full name. She insisted that Scarlett Jo sounded juvenile for a grown woman.
“Why, Sylvia, thank you. As I remember, that was a beautiful pumpkin.”
Sylvia shifted her glasses to the top of her nose, rattling the dainty silver chain that held them around her neck. “It was orange.”
Scarlett Jo scanned her orange sundress and matching orange shoes and confirmed to herself that she looked lovely today. Jackson had told her she did too. So that pretty much settled it for her. “Lucky for me, orange is one of my favorite—”
“Did you see that?” Sylvia whirled around.
“See what?”
“That girl over there has tattoos all the way down her arm.” Sylvia pulled at the bottom edge of her yellow suit jacket and then straightened her matching skirt, her lips pressed together in disapproval. “My granddaughter Mary Kate has one on her ankle. It’s disgraceful.”
Scarlett Jo still didn’t know why Sylvia came to their church. She complained about the music and the preaching. She didn’t like the old factory building where they worshiped. She fussed about allowing coffee in the sanctuary and believed that if you didn’t look like her, you pretty much shouldn’t be coming to church.
“A lot of people have tattoos nowadays, Sylvia.” Scarlett Jo greeted a visitor and handed her a bulletin. Then she turned to look at Sylvia. “Please smile if you’re going to stand here at the door. We want to invite people in, not scare them away.”
Sylvia huffed. “Did you know that they are planning a women’s event?”
“Yes, it’s going to be wonderful.”
“Did you know that they are having the women miss church on Sunday for it?”
“It’s a weekend getaway, Sylvia. Every woman needs that now and then.”
Sylvia’s already-wrinkled forehead furrowed more deeply. “You don’t go on a church retreat to miss church. No one should miss church.”
“You ought to try it sometime. Might do you good. Now here, take some bulletins and pass them out with a smile, or go help in the nursery.” Scarlett Jo caught herself. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t help in the nursery.”
Sylvia rolled her eyes at Scarlett Jo. “Why do I go here?”
“Because you love me, Sylvia. That’s why.”
Sylvia’s gray head popped back as she stuck her nose in the air.
Scarlett Jo turned her attention back to those arriving. Ever since Sylvia started coming to church here, she’d acted like she hated both Scarlett Jo and Jackson. Yet she kept coming. Kept engaging. So Scarlett Jo kept believing that Sylvia would find her own heart just as worth examining as she did everyone else’s. After all, if God could make a donkey talk and let a man be spit out alive after spending three days in a fish’s stomach, surely Sylvia Malone wasn’t too big a task for him.
A movement in the parking lot caught Scarlett Jo’s eye. “Grace! Over here.” She bounced down the stairs, waving wildly.
A smile swept across Grace Shepherd’s beautiful face as she approached the church. A tall man walked beside her—ripped jeans, tousled hair, and scruffy beard. Scarlett Jo hurried over and extended her hand. “I’m Scarlett Jo Newberry.”
The man’s reflexes seemed to set him back at first, but then he took her hand with an awkward smile. “Tyler Shepherd.”
“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you.” Scarlett Jo shook hands enthusiastically. “I’m your neighbor, and I have just fallen in love with your wife.
” She wrapped her large arm around Grace’s petite shoulders and squeezed. “I’m so glad the two of you came today. I think you’re really going to enjoy it.”
She led the two of them toward the front door, her arm still draped around Grace’s shoulders. “By the way, you look just beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Grace ran her fingers down the tiny strap of the handbag dangling from her arm. The hems of her white pantsuit fell perfectly across her yellow heels. She laughed. “You probably thought I only wore pajamas.”
“Nah. I’ve seen you on TV.” Scarlett Jo turned her head toward Tyler. “I hear you play for the Predators. Grace said it’s been pretty hard on your body.” She felt Grace’s shoulders tighten beneath her arm.
Tyler’s face wasn’t inviting conversation. But he responded anyway. “Yeah. It can be pretty painful at times.”
Grace chimed in quickly. “Yes, it’s part of the price we pay for what he does.”
“I hope once y’all get settled, you can take some time off to recuperate. ” She looked down at Grace. “You too, sweetie. You should be taking time off.”
Grace gave a nervous smile. “Oh, I’m doing okay.”
Cold air from the sanctuary collided with them as Tyler opened the front door.
“Well, welcome to Ecclesia. We’re really glad you came.” Scarlett Jo gave Grace another quick squeeze, handed them each a bulletin, then showed them where they could sit. Tyler nodded but didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Scarlett Jo never needed words to read people.
“Well, I still think this is a strange place to have a church.”
Zach rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the Range Rover into the church parking lot. His mother-in-law, Adele Whittingham, had come in for the weekend, and he had had about as much of her criticism as he could take. What he lived with during the week was painful enough. Adding Adele took it to Valium proportions. He’d found excuses to stay away from home yesterday, but he couldn’t very well refuse to take her to church.
“Mom, I told her not to wear those jeans.” Joy’s voice rose sharply as she climbed out of the vehicle. “They’re mine.”
Caroline took a drink from her Starbucks cup. “Joy, would you hush? I don’t want to hear anything else out of you.”
Zach could hear music as they approached the church doors. It didn’t matter what time he got up to start fixing breakfast; they were always late. But there was no chance of sneaking in quietly because the pastor’s wife stood at the door.
Great. Zach really liked Jackson Newberry, but he had yet to understand how a man like Jackson could be married to a woman like Scarlett Jo. She was big, loud, and gaudy, and she always seemed to be in everybody’s business.
“Hey, y’all. How are you this morning? So good to see you.” Scarlett Jo’s face beamed about as big as that white belt she had wrapped around that awful orange dress.
“Good morning, Scarlett Jo,” Caroline crooned. “Good to see you.”
“You too, Caroline. And, girls, you look so beautiful today.”
“Thank you, Miss Scarlett Jo,” they rang in unison.
Adele gave Scarlett Jo a polite nod as she walked past.
Who are these people? Zach blinked as Scarlett Jo grabbed his hand and pumped it.
“Morning, Zach. I swear, you have the most beautiful family. You should be so proud.”
“I am.” He looked past her to the front of the sanctuary, where the worship team was already in full swing. “Um, I’m looking forward to the message today.”
“It’s gonna be a good one. Jackson was tucked away all weekend getting it ready. And the special music’s going to be great. I heard ’em practicing earlier.”
Zach felt his pulse quicken slightly. “Yeah, the music’s always good here.”
His breathing slowed once he was out of her gaze. He made his way to the end of the row of chairs where his family had parked themselves. When he glanced at the worship team, shame gripped him as wide and dark as the large beams that held up the old factory where they worshiped.
He lowered his head and held on to the back of the chair in front of him. Every note that came from the mouth of the woman leading worship reminded him of the hypocrite he was. He looked at Caroline’s face, fearing she could somehow see it, feel it, sense it in some way. But she was oblivious to him, her head stuck in her bulletin.
He raised his head and waited it out. It would be over eventually. In a little more than an hour he would be out of here. He wouldn’t have to be tortured with his own heart for another whole week.
Grace closed her eyes as the couple who led praise and worship sang. There had always been something about worship that she loved. It offered a healing of sorts, replenishing her for the week ahead. Between two of the songs she looked at Tyler, trying to catch his eye, wanting to share the feeling.
Tyler was texting. He didn’t even look up. And she felt the optimism that this morning, this new church, had brought slipping away.
She pushed down the desire to disconnect too. Staying connected was what kept her sane. Alive. Hopeful. She knew that once hope disconnected, it would be over for her. Giving up was so easy when you faced the same demon year after year, day after day. She hadn’t given up, but her hope levels felt as erratic as a thrill ride at an amusement park—some days climbing in abundance, some days plummeting to nothingness.
Church was one way she tried to hold steady. Obviously Tyler didn’t feel the same.
They had actually met at a church conference she attended in Virginia not long after she graduated from college. His uncle had pastored the church, so Tyler’s entire family was there, along with some of his friends. He was two years younger than she was, but he had never gone to college because he had signed with the New Jersey Devils fresh out of high school.
Grace caught his eye. He caught hers. They talked on the phone for six months before they had their first date. Every chance he had when he was off the road, he came to Nashville to see her. By the time the Predators picked him up, they were already engaged. Everyone said they were meant for each other, that they would have an amazing life together, that their children would be models. Now, at thirty-five, she was still waiting for that to happen.
They’d dated for a almost year before he proposed. His travel schedule and her work made the courtship challenging, but the attraction was palpable. Holding back from making love to him before marriage was the hardest thing she had ever done. But she had fought puberty, first love, and aggressive college men to save herself for this man. For this love. And she’d never regretted that decision. No. That was one out of all her decisions she didn’t regret.
She deliberately moved her heart and mind back to the present, to the richness and warmth of this old factory at the edge of downtown Franklin. She had felt it as soon as she entered—that this was a place she could call home whether Tyler made it that way for himself or not. The woman leading worship spoke for a few minutes before she began the next song. As she spoke, her dark hair moved across her shoulders. And as the next song began, Grace let her soul drift away. Again.
When the final chord strummed through the speakers, she and Tyler sat down on the padded chairs. Tyler reached his arm around the back of her chair and rested his hand on her shoulder. She felt her heartbeat quicken, loving his touch. Craving it. She reached her hand up and patted his softly. He leaned down and kissed the side of her head.
For a moment, life was perfect. At least as perfect as their life could be.
Scarlett Jo stood in the back of the building as Jackson gave a message unlike any he had given since their church had started. He was broken and deeply passionate and at times even prophetic. His words came out with a boldness and an authority that only a man who had spent time alone with God could deliver.
Last night after the kids had gone to bed, he had told her he needed some time with the Lord. She didn’t know when he’d actually come to bed—or if he’d slept at all. But this morning, he’d said he felt the Lord had a
strong message for him to deliver.
Listening to him now, she had to agree. God did have something to say.
She took in the scene before her, all the heads that represented families and lives and hearts. And that was when she felt it. A deep pain in her chest. A pain that took her breath. She hunched over, gripping the large white daisy with an orange center that was clipped to the strap of her sundress. She almost screamed out that she was having a heart attack.
But as quickly as the pain came, it ceased. She caught her breath and straightened, trying to shake off the panic. As soon as she did, the pain struck again, this time harder and deeper. She clutched at her chest, her breathing rapid and short. But right before she broke out in a bad Sanford impersonation, the pain released her.
“God’s heart is breaking today, people. I sense that in my spirit. His heart is breaking over your heart.” Jackson’s words reverberated through the building as if they were coming from a megaphone. “God, help us know what it feels like to have our hearts broken over our own sin.”
Scarlett Jo stood upright and knew immediately that was what she was feeling. It wasn’t a heart attack. Good thing she hadn’t screamed out like she had wanted to. That might have been a little distracting. Then wonder washed over her. God was allowing her heart to sense his pain. His pain for the people in this room. His pain for the people he had entrusted to her and Jackson’s care.
“You can only live with your heart shut down for so long. Eventually you will fight for your healing, or you will die. Those are your only choices. ‘Today,’ the Scripture says, ‘I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life.’”
With that, Jackson Newberry had said all he was going to say. But Scarlett Jo knew the battle line had been drawn. And she and Jackson had been sent to the front.
Boxwood Bistro had a wonderful Sunday brunch. Zach took a bite of his cheese grits and savored the Southern favorite.
“Are you going to eat that?” Adele asked as Caroline stuck her fork in the tiny dollop of cheese grits she had allowed on her plate. “Do you know how many calories are in that stuff?”
Secrets over Sweet Tea Page 7