by Tamara Leigh
Lisa waves away my protest. “Two tables for me, two for you.”
Another problem with having friends. They think they know what’s best for you.
“This way.” She gestures to Maddox. “The table has a nice view of the church.”
He holds my gaze a moment longer, then follows Lisa across the café.
The sound of cellophane and little beans tumbling against one another returns me to Melody.
“More Jelly Bellys.” With a gap-toothed smile, she gives the bag another shake. “Isn’t Mad ox nice? He all ways a-member me.”
I glance at his retreating back. “Yes, Melody, Maddox is nice.”
She turns away. “I take my break now.”
Five minutes later, I set a mug of steaming coffee before Maddox. “Can I get you a pastry with that?”
He looks up. “No, but I will need another coffee.”
“Someone’s joining you?”
“Yes.”
Who? “Just coffee as well?”
“And cream, I believe.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Thirty seconds later, I set the second cup of coffee and a pitcher of cream to his left. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Sit down, Harri.”
I freeze. “What?”
“The coffee’s for you. We need to talk.”
“Why?”
“There’s something you should know before today’s meeting.”
I’m being fired. This close to owning the café, and I’m being fired!
“Your job is safe, Harri.”
I catch my breath. “It is? Because it’s really important if I’m going to…”
He raises an eyebrow. “To…?”
“It’s just that I take my job seriously.”
The flicker of suspicion recedes, but not entirely. “Join me.”
I slide into the chair beside him. “Is something wrong at First Grace?”
“Nothing that can’t be alleviated by what I’m about to tell you.” He lifts the pitcher of cream. “Say when.”
I let him pour to the rim. After a good stir, I lift my cup. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
“You recall when Stephano talked about the dual services under consideration?”
I return my cup to its saucer with a loud clink. “Not under consideration anymore?”
“No. Next month when the kids return to school, First Grace will offer dual services—eight and eleven with Sunday school in between.”
I lower my gaze to my coffee. “Oh.”
“It’s not just to accommodate the numbers, though that’s a priority. It’s to provide options to those in our community who are searching for a church home.”
Our community? Since when did he become part of our community? After all, when he’s done with First Grace, he’s out of here. But I don’t say it, especially as I know my angst is rooted in fear of change. I curl my hand tighter around the cup. “Okay.”
Maddox’s shadow falls over me, and I catch the scent of coffee on his breath. “It’s a good thing, Harri. You have to believe it.”
No, I don’t. “Both services will be identical?”
“As discussed over your cat’s play date—”
I resent the smile in his voice.
“—both services will be fairly interchangeable. We are not going the traditional versus contemporary route.” He slides a hand around mine on the cup. “If you’re not careful, you’ll break it.”
The cup is the least of my concerns.
“Trust me.” He squeezes my hand. “Going to dual services is for the best.”
I long to tell him that one service is plenty, that there are other churches better equipped to reach the unchurched, but I don’t need to spend any more time in my Bible to know that such thinking is far from God honoring.
Lightly, Maddox drags his fingertips across the tops of my fingers, causing my breath to stick. “Say something, Harri.”
“Do you feel it too?” I practically burst.
“What?”
“The…” Why did I say that?! What was I thinking? I’m not thinking. I’m feeling. And shouldn’t be. Especially at a time like this.
“Ah, that.” He smiles and once more draws his fingers across mine. “I feel it. Have dinner with me tonight?”
I nearly refuse, but the words Lisa forced me to repeat return: “It’s okay to enjoy the company of men. Within reason.” Still, I hesitate, and that’s when I recall that I already have plans. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
His face clouds. “Stephano again?”
“No. Doo-Dah, my mother’s other cat. My brother’s going out of town for a few days and asked me to take Doo-Dah. He has an early morning flight, so he’s dropping him off tonight.”
“What time?”
“Around six.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at seven.”
My imagination takes me for a spin on Maddox’s 1298 cc, liquid-cooled, 16-valve, in-line four-cylinder bike. And we’re both wearing leather. “No!” I pull my hand from beneath his. “What I mean is, I’m going to be busy helping to reintroduce Doo-Dah to Dumplin’. After all, it has been a while since the two were together.”
Maddox arches an eyebrow and rises. “Seven o’clock, Harri.”
Out of my mouth comes, “Okay. Seven o’clock.”
He smiles.
“But, um, let’s meet somewhere.” Thankfully, it was only Elva who saw him kiss me last week, and other than ask me about it, she’s kept it to herself. Next time I may not be so lucky.
He nods. “Far North Steakhouse in Cool Springs?”
Nice place, and not too far from Franklin. Unfortunately, it will mean immersing myself in the frenzied traffic characteristic of the affluent shopping area. “All right.”
“I’ll see you at the meeting.” He heads toward Gloria, who waves him forward.
Okay, Lord, do You know what just happened? How I went from angst-ridden over dual services to accepting an invitation to enjoy Maddox’s company? Not good. In fact, I should call him up and tell him I’ve changed my mind. Tell him it’s a bad idea. Better yet—bad timing. Right. Er, any suggestions on what I should wear?
“Sure you’re up to this, Harri?”
I look from my big brother’s earnest face to the carrier in his hand to its barred door through which the placid Doo-Dah studies me.
Ready or not, Dumplin’, here he comes. “Yeah. I can do this.” I step back.
Tyler brushes past me as he enters. Lowering the carrier, he gazes around my living room. “Nice place.”
I’m panged that he’s never been inside. “I like it. It’s comfortable and…”
“Safe.”
“Yes, it’s a very safe neighborhood.”
“That way too, I’m sure. Keeps you on the straight and narrow, huh? Not much trouble you can get into running with the senior crowd.”
That hurts. And I’m reminded of Maddox’s hypothesis about my relationship with Tyler—that not only hasn’t he forgiven me because I haven’t forgiven myself, but he doesn’t trust me because I don’t trust myself.
I draw a deep breath. “True. The older folks are safe, but I am starting to branch out a little, so stay tuned for trouble.” I laugh, but he doesn’t respond in kind. In fact, his expression turns almost sheepish.
“Sorry, Harri.” He lowers his chin. “That was uncalled for.”
Staring at the top of his head, from which springs hair nearly the same shade of auburn as mine, I feel a flush of brotherly love. “No, like it or not, it was called for. I have been playing it too safe.”
He lifts his head.
“But”—I smooth the skirt of my basic black dress—“as I said, I’m branching out. In fact, I have a dinner date tonight.”
“Not with some tattooed, motorcycle-riding degenerate, I hope.”
I bite back a smile. “Actually, Maddox does have a motorcycle.”
Tyler’s mouth tightens.
/> “And a tattoo.”
Tighter.
“But as for being a degenerate, he lives in the park.”
Not so tight. “You’re dating someone who lives here in the park?” His nostrils flare, emphasizing the slight bend in his nose—a token reminder of the night it was broken when he came to my rescue. “That’s branching out? It’s not enough that you have to bury yourself among senior citizens; now you’re dating them?”
Game called on account of rain. “He’s not a senior citizen, Tyler. He’s thirty-something, kind of good-looking, and has a real job.”
“What?”
“Maddox is the consultant hired by First Grace. He’s staying in the guest mobile home.”
Tyler makes no attempt to hide his relief, short-lived though it is. “That’s better than dating a man forty years your senior, but do you think it’s wise to get involved with someone hired by the church?”
I sigh. “I’m taking a risk, but that’s more than I’ve done in the last eight years.” I narrow my lids. “And weren’t you just giving me a hard time about playing it safe?”
He nods grudgingly. “Just be careful, Harri. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Another flush of brotherly love, but as he turns to the door, all I can manage is “Thank you.”
He hesitates, and for a moment I feel the unspoken words I long to be spoken between us. But then, without looking around, he waves a hand. “I’ll call you when I get back.” A moment later, he’s heading down Red Sea Lane. And Dumplin’ is heading toward me, eyes on the carrier, tail snapping.
“Bea didn’t take it well.”
Maddox pushes his plate forward, abandoning the remains of his steak and baked potato. “Can we talk about something other than First Grace?”
I know. I keep returning to today’s meeting—not only because of Bea’s reaction, which was to grab her purse and stomp out of the room, but because Maddox is bent on making me the topic of conversation.
He touches my hand. “I asked you to dinner, Harri, not First Grace.” A smile draws a crooked path across his mouth, and he pulls his hand back. “And, yes, I felt that.”
I am so embarrassed. Why did I have to alert him to my awareness of the electricity between us?
“So tell me what it was like growing up as a PK—” His cell phone rings. “Excuse me.” He reaches into his jacket.
Though I don’t care for cell phones, as they’re always disrupting face-to-face conversation, in this instance, I’m grateful. However, Maddox doesn’t so much as glance at the screen to identify the caller but presses a button to silence the ring. “Sorry about that. I forgot to turn it off.”
“But shouldn’t you at least see who it is?” Stephano does and answers nearly every call. “It might be important.”
Maddox crosses his arms on the table. “Do you ever wonder how we survived without these contraptions? We must have been in a world of hurt.”
I grin. “Amazing how much easier they’ve made our lives.”
“Okay, so back to growing up in the shadow of your father.”
Ugh. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about First Grace.”
“I don’t, but as it has been the setting for most of your life, I suppose we can’t avoid it entirely. So how was it?”
I push my own plate back. “Sometimes it was great—you know, being made to feel special and covered in prayer. Other times it was difficult, not only because of unrealistic expectations, but interrupted dinners and family time. And at other times, it was intolerable. But in hindsight, a lot of that was my own doing.”
Maddox raises an eyebrow. “I’ve been told that First Grace nearly split, which would have been when you were about sixteen.”
“Yeah, about that time.” Now let’s see if we can put this to bed. “There was a push for a contemporary form of worship, but the majority of our members, including my father, were against it. Thus, after months of consideration and squabbles that got closer and closer to home—my family’s home—our board voted to remain traditional.”
To my right, someone clears her throat. “Excuse me, sir… ma’am.”
Feeling winded, I turn to the pretty server who has come alongside our table.
“Can I clear your plates and tell you about our desserts?”
Maddox smiles. “Certainly.”
As she ticks off a list of delectable treats that range from Chocolate Paradise to Flaming Bananas Foster, I draw a calming breath.
Maddox looks at me. “What do you think?”
“They sound great, but I’m full.”
“Then one Berries with Cream it is.”
The server nods. “Coffee?”
We decline, but before she turns away, Maddox adds, “Two spoons, please.”
Meaning he expects me to share his dessert? To dive into the same dish? To clink my spoon against his? Perhaps compete for the same berry? And what, exactly, does Motorcycle Man think he’s doing eating Berries with Cream? Doesn’t he know it’s incompatible with leather?
“So what happened when it was decided to stay traditional—Harri-wise?”
“Most of those who supported the contemporary movement left quietly in search of another church home, but others made things difficult for my father, especially when they pulled me into it.” The memories tumble in. “I felt betrayed by friends and their families who professed to care about me.” Among them, Lisa’s family. “I wanted my father to take us elsewhere, but he said that he was where God wanted him. So I rebelled in hopes he would realize how staying at First Grace was harming me.”
Lord, I didn’t mean to go into so much detail. Did You mean me to?
“I never meant it to go as far as it did, but it snowballed. I tried to stop, but then I’d get angry about something, and off I’d go again. I got into cigarettes, alcohol, stealing. Then there were the guys. By the time I hit eighteen, I was raring to go. And that’s when it got really bad. Of course, I denied it every painful step of the way.”
Is that enough, God?
“At least until you hit rock bottom.”
He’s letting me off the hook, telling me I don’t need to reveal things for which I’ve been forgiven—even if I do still struggle with feelings of unworthiness. “Yeah. I imagine you landed in that place too, hmm?”
“I did some time there.”
Before he can elaborate, the server returns with the Berries with Cream. “Anything else I can get you?” She sets the squat goblet between us.
Maddox smiles. “We’re good, thank you.” As she moves away, he lifts his spoon. “Join me?”
It looks good, and I’m not so full I couldn’t enjoy a few spoonfuls, but there’s the matter of competing over cream-drenched berries—silly, especially as we’ve done more with those kisses of ours, but why push it? “Maybe in a little while.”
He digs in, and the expression that rises on his face is nothing short of bliss. “You have no idea what you’re missing.” So much for leather and Berries with Cream being incompatible. Where Maddox is concerned, they go well together.
He pauses, and only when that pause lengthens and his mouth curves do I realize I’m staring at a bit of cream on his upper lip. Avert! “You… uh… were saying you spent some time at rock bottom.”
“I did.”
I return my regard to his face, note the absence of cream on his upper lip, and am a little disappointed.
He finishes off another spoonful. “As you know, I got into trouble at seminary—had a hard time following the rules, though I was full of good intentions. You see, I grew up in a family that was active in church and I attended a Christian school, so my view of the world was limited.” He grins. “Not that I didn’t extend that view from time to time. The trouble came when I went away to college with the idea of becoming a preacher—an idea that was firmly implanted from years of being told that my ability to retain Scripture and my standing among my peers made me the perfect candidate.” He slides more berries into his mouth and chews with
such enjoyment that my fingers are drawn to my spoon.
Oh, why not? A moment later, I’m in the throes of a taste bud extravaganza.
“Good, huh?”
“Um-hmm.” I return to the goblet, and as predicted, our spoons meet. And we’re both chasing the same berry. Maddox overtakes it and, to my surprise, scoops it into my spoon.
I blush. “Thanks.” I lift the spoon to my mouth. “Go on.”
“Suddenly, there were so many possibilities. Everything I’d either heard about or glimpsed from the sidelines was available. So I sampled them—parties, cigarettes, alcohol, women, motorcycles, tattoos…” He turns a hand up. “Hardly compatible with a seminary student. Still, I continued to pursue the life of a preacher—at least, until I was kicked out.”
“Why were you kicked out?”
He fixes his gaze past me, but just as I conclude I’ve pushed into closets he’s unwilling to open, he says, “A midnight venture into the seedy side of town, too much alcohol, a disagreement with a guy twice my weight, and a knife that I didn’t see until it was too late.”
I catch my breath, not only for what Maddox faced, but for the memory of Tyler taking on those two guys the night he came for me. No knife, thank God!
Maddox smiles grimly. “He got me in the stomach. I remember the sirens, the lights speeding past as I was rushed to surgery. Worst of all, I remember my mother’s face when I awakened. And my father’s ultimatum—get right or don’t come home.” He shakes his head. “I hated him for it, but it was what I needed. And so I made him a promise, one that got harder to keep when I was kicked out of seminary, but I kept it.”
Just as I’ve kept the promise I made myself. The difference is that Maddox appears to have kept his without putting himself in lockdown. But then, maybe being a rebel wasn’t in his blood…
Not surprisingly, that voice echoes through me as it did eight years ago. “You can take ’em outta the bar, but you can’t take the bar outta them. It’s in their blood.”
“Have I shocked you?” Maddox’s voice returns me to the present.
“No, I… I’m sorry about seminary.”
“I didn’t belong there, Harri. It takes a different kind of person to shepherd and love so many people. Someone like your father or Paul.”
I nod, only to realize I’ve concurred with regard to Pastor Paul.