by Carla Rossi
“Sure, buddy.”
Shade felt a bubble of anxiety form in his gut. He needed prayer, too. Did he dare ask them for it?
“Uh...I have a request, also.”
“Now’s the time,” Max answered. “Whaddaya got?”
“You guys kinda know where I come from, right? You know how the band ended, and about my accident?”
They exchanged glances and didn’t immediately speak. Kevin began to study the ends of his tennis shoes rather than look Shade in the eye.
“We think we know,” Rocky said. “We figured you were here for a reason and decided we wouldn’t press you on any of that. It’s your business.”
“Yeah,” Max added. “We all followed the band. We know you were in a car accident with Pete and he died. We know you were in pretty bad shape.”
He wasn’t a bit surprised Max knew about Pete. Pete was the drummer all other drummers wanted to be. And he was sure whatever they didn’t know, they’d gone home to look up after they first met. Though the band’s official website had been removed following Pete’s death and the collapse of the band, there were a multitude of blogs, reviews, interviews and news reports about Dead Lizard Highway. Some of it wasn’t so flattering.
“I was in bad shape. I had to deal with the physical injuries, the grief, my problems with alcohol. But that’s not what I need prayer about.”
They exchanged glances again.
“So, what do you need?” Rocky asked.
“While I was still in the hospital, I found out my girlfriend was pregnant. My daughter was born in late October. She’s six-months-old. I’ve never met her, but her mother said I could meet her today.”
Shade took a deep breath as the burden that had him bent almost to the ground lifted from his shoulders. Now he understood about sharing needs with fellow believers and asking for help. He felt better, already.
But the heavy dose of his reality seemed to sit in the guys’ laps like a six-hundred-pound gorilla.
“Wow,” Rocky said. “Forget my request. Let’s just pray for Shade.”
“Dude.” Kevin smirked and rolled his eyes. “I think God can handle them both.”
Max shot them his “stop-being-morons” look and put his hand on Shade’s upper arm. He stepped closer. “What about the baby’s mother? Are you...I mean...are you trying to put your family back together?”
“No, she’s moved on. Waaaay on. She married a guy from around here. They live over there in Oak Manor.”
“That’s why you came back here,” Kevin observed.
“Yep. I got well, I got sober, and I came home to start fresh and be a part of my daughter’s life.”
“And the new husband? He’s OK with this?”
“I think Jess, that’s the mother’s name, made it clear from the beginning she wanted to leave that door open for me. I don’t know. We’d been talking on the phone trying to work out some boundaries and all of a sudden I get a phone call this morning that I should just come over for lunch after church and we’ll all talk. It’s crazy.”
“Sounds like God is already working.”
“What’s the baby’s name?” Kevin asked.
“Rachel.”
“And you’re sure you’re the father?”
Rocky’s arm flew out like a soccer mom in a minivan and punched him in the arm. “Really, Kevin? Was that necessary?”
“Oouuch!” He rubbed his shoulder. “He’s a rock star, isn’t he?”
“Sorry, Shade.” Max scrubbed his hands across his face. “The boy just ain’t right in the head, sometimes.”
Shade laughed. “No worries.”
Max held his hand out and started counting things off on his fingers. “So we’re praying for Rocky to find God’s will about his speaking request, and for Shade’s meeting to go well today, and that he and Rachel’s mother can reach some sort of understanding about visitation and all that. Right?”
“Right,” they all agreed.
“God can do anything,” Rocky said. “Your baby will be makin’ a name for herself in the nursery here in no time.”
“And don’t worry,” Max added. “Despite Kevin’s tendency to blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind, we’ve got your back. No one will hear about this from us.”
“Thanks, but it’s no big secret. I know I’m new here and people here don’t know me that well, but it’s not like I’m trying to hide anything.”
Candi rounded the corner. Shade cleared his throat as she approached to signal the others.
“Sorry,” she said as the tight circle opened up for her. “Didn’t mean to barge in to the boys-only treehouse. I can come back.”
Max grabbed her arm. “Get over here. What’s up?”
“I need to check with Kelly, but while you’re all here, what do you think of practicing on Mondays for the new youth service?”
Rocky, Max, and Kevin all looked clueless. It was clear they hadn’t given any more thought to the new youth service Pastor Charles ordered. If Candi wasn’t there to keep them organized, Shade suspected the church’s music program would have long ago flown off the rails.
“Never mind. I’ll e-mail you all next week.”
“I can’t do Mondays,” Shade said. “I already have a commitment that night.”
“Oh. OK. We’ll work something out. Umm...Shade, can I have a minute?”
He pushed away from the wall. “Sure.”
He ignored Kevin’s wiggling eyebrows and Max’s kissing noises as he walked away. He didn’t want to know what Rocky was doing.
“We’re gonna go ahead and take care of that prayer,” Max called after him.
“Thanks, guys.”
They stepped into a room nearby. Candi walked to the middle with her head held high and her arms stiff at her sides. It was like General Patton in a little pink suit. Yes, she was a stunner in her perfect clothes and perfect hair, but he’d take the girl from the pond any day of the week.
“I’m sorry if I was out of line this morning,” he started before she could. “Didn’t mean to question you in front of the band.”
“Don’t apologize. Your idea was the right one. It turned out great.” She paused and clasped her hands behind her back. She did Patton better than Patton. “I’m sorry, too.”
His hearing must be going. It was a real possibility after all the blaring speakers he’d sat too close to. “Sorry?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“It occurred to me after I got all worked up about everything this morning that if I’d just asked your opinion in the first place, I wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it.”
“I’m not following.”
“Pastor Charles believes God sent you here to be a part of this music program. He also thinks I could use some help with it. He might be right. When I got that last minute change, I should’ve just picked up the phone and brainstormed some ideas with you. But I’m not used to having help. I love this group, but they’re not interested in the details. They’re talented, but they just want to show up and worship. They don’t want to plan, or arrange music, or get those last minutes requests.”
“I never said I wanted to do that, either. I’ve told the pastor several times I’m not a worship leader.”
She shrugged and leaned against a table along the wall. “Doesn’t appear to matter. You’ve apparently asked for God’s will in your life, and He’s apparently tossed you into the middle of something here. He had to have been the one, or it wouldn’t be working.”
“Why are you so sure it’s working?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? You keep coming back. You have good ideas. Get used to it. You’re a leader in this group, and you’re about to be a part of the launch of that new youth service. That’s really big.”
Big? For his own survival, he knew he needed to be a part of something. He never meant for it to be big, or important or anything more than sitting in the same pew in church every week. Yet each time they talked, his role
seemed to grow. And while Candi praised him for what he considered a basic idea, the facts became clear. God had thrown him into the middle of something, but he didn’t understand any of it.
He rocked on his heels. “I’ll do what I can to help. I told you that.”
She stood and tugged her jacket back into place. “I appreciate it.”
She brushed past him to make another quick getaway. Seemed she always flitted out of a room before the conversation really ended. Maybe he wanted to say something once in a while.
In a moment of pure insanity, he reached for her hand as she flew by. “Hang on a minute.”
To say she looked shocked as she turned around would be an understatement, and while she didn’t pull away as he suspected she would, she didn’t hold on, either.
He let her soft, thin fingers slip from his.
She again clasped her hands behind her back. “Did you need something else?”
“Uh...” He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the ceiling. No answers there. “Just wanted to say thanks again for coming out to the pond with me yesterday.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
His moment of insanity had become permanent. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. He stepped closer, she didn’t step back.
“I like spending time with you, Candi. I think we should do it again.”
She blinked three times as she looked up into his eyes. Her puzzled frown softened into a curious gaze. She tilted her head. “Why?”
Uh-oh.
Leave it to a woman to ask the most ridiculous question at the most ridiculous time. Never had he met one who could leave well enough alone. “Why, what?”
“Why do you like spending time with me?”
He went with the truth. “Because you’re grounded, and that makes me feel grounded.”
The corner of her mouth twitched as she considered his response. This would be a whole lot more comfortable if he had any idea how to read her.
“Thanks,” she said softly. “I like spending time with you, too, Shade.”
He wasn’t about to ask why.
Somehow, he didn’t think she’d be able to tell him anyway.
6
From: Pastor Charles Littleton
[mailto:[email protected]]
Sent: Sunday, April 26 1:25 PM
To: Candi Canaberry [email protected]
CC: Shade Blackledge
Subject: Today’s worship
Candi and Shade:
Missed you both after church. Great job this morning. Woody would be proud. Thank you both so much.
Charles
Shade headed for Oak Manor with a severe case of information overload. Facts swirled in his brain like a Gulf Coast hurricane, but nothing seemed to stick for long. There was just too much to remember.
Six-month-old babies put everything in their mouths and play a lot with their own feet. Six-month-old babies can roll over. Six-month-old babies are learning to be social but may be wary of strangers...
That’s the one that got him. He was the last person who should be a stranger, yet he was. It was his fault and that made him sick most days.
He passed 1227 Acorn Ridge and turned around to come back and park along the curb. He again prayed for God’s help and guidance and considered the possibilities. Jess was either going to be different or the same. Her husband was either going to be an understanding guy, or not. And baby Rachel was either going to welcome him quietly, or scream like a terrified toddler at a clown convention.
Regardless of how it all played out, there was something he knew for sure. He’d come this far, and wasn’t leaving without a plan to be a part of his daughter’s life.
He approached the door and would have rung the bell if not for the two strips of shiny silver duct tape that covered the button. He knocked, instead. There was a scratch and high-pitched bark on the other side. As the door opened, the yappy dog came out to prance at his feet and sniff his boots. The welcoming scent of a traditional Sunday afternoon home-cooked meal wafted towards him like a comforting cloud and pulled him forward.
Jess stood by the door in a flowery blue skirt, simple white shirt, and no shoes. “Come in. Come in.” She repeated the phrase several times and made large sweeping gestures with her arm as if to make sure he knew it was safe to enter.
“Get in here, Rufus.” The stern male voice from behind Jess bounced off the walls in the small tile entry. The dog responded immediately, its tiny claws clicking their way across the hard floor and into the carpeted living area.
Jess ushered him inside and closed the door. “Shade, this is my husband, Robert Barnett.”
The man’s tentative smile and sturdy handshake did little to ease the tension in what Shade had already decided was one of the most harrowing moments of his life—and he’d had some doozies.
“Good to meet you, Robert.”
“Bobby,” he corrected. “Call me Bobby.” He motioned for Shade to follow him. “Have a seat.”
Shade scanned the room. There was a playpen, but no baby.
Jess touched his arm as they walked. “Rachel’s asleep. Church wears her out. She takes a bottle and goes right down when we get home. She’ll be up soon.”
His disappointment was tinged with relief. One thing at a time. “Something smells good.”
“I’m roasting a chicken,” Jess said. “It’s almost done.”
Shade nodded. He already regretted agreeing to join them for lunch. Talk, yes. Eat, no. With the lump in his throat and the stress in the room, how were they ever going to sit around a roasted chicken and even pretend to be able to eat together?
In well synchronized movements, Jess and Bobby sat on the couch. She smoothed her skirt, he loosened his tie. She flipped her hair off her shoulder; he poked his wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose.
Shade took the wingback chair across from them. Rufus immediately scampered over and began to lick the ends of his boots. Shade reached out to pet him, but wasn’t sure where to start. Short on hair and long on tongue, the wheezing canine darted from foot to foot, occasionally tilting his head to gaze up at him with a pair of wide-set glassy eyes. He swiped his hand across the dog’s nearly bare back. “Where’s Savannah?”
Jess smiled. “She’s at my parents’ house. We’re in the process of repairing the deck and fence in the backyard. She’s safer over there while all that’s going on. You know how high energy she is.”
“I know,” he agreed and couldn’t help but return the smile as he remembered the well-trained Border Collie she used to sneak backstage at their concerts. Despite the noise and chaos, Savannah would sleep in the wings with her black and white head resting on her silky front paws. Now that was a dog. He glanced at Rufus who had now licked his way to the heel of his boot. This was a genetic mutation.
Bobby straightened at the familiarity in their exchange and clamped his hand on his wife’s knee. “Go lay down, Rufus,” he ordered.
Jess patted his hand as if to comfort him. His frown faded. Slightly.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Bobby offered.
“No, thanks.”
Shade glanced around the room as he sat back in the chair. The television was old, but the couch was new. The recliner in the corner was in shreds, but the area rugs scattered around the large living area had yet to flatten out where they’d been rolled up in the store. He studied the nervous couple huddled on the couch. No doubt about it. They cared for each other and were trying to build a life together one home furnishing at a time.
Jess plucked a baby blanket off the end of the couch and started to fold it. “Your mom and dad have been a big help on Wednesdays, Shade.”
“I appreciate you keeping them in the loop while I got settled.”
Everyone in the room knew that by “settled” he meant many things, including “sober.”
Bobby sat back and crossed his arms. “And you’re completely settled, now?”
; The arrow of cool cynicism was straight and to the gut. Shade had expected it and welcomed the opportunity to move past it no matter how much Bobby seemed to enjoy drawing the bow.
“I’m sober. Have been for months. Not going back there.” He paused. “Business is good, and I’m through with physical therapy. Time to move on.”
Jess blinked and smiled, and smiled and blinked, as she kept watch over the tense conversation. “An-y-way,” she said through a sigh, “including your parents was the right thing to do, Shade. I’ve known your mother most of my life. And babies need their grandparents.”
“Again, I appreciate that. My parents have been very supportive while I’ve gone through recovery, but they knew I had to do a lot of it on my own. They’ve shared pictures and information, but I want you to know that time with Rachel has been their own. As much as I wanted to get involved, I thought that should happen between us first.”
“That’s good of you,” she said. “We’ve had a lot of adjusting here, too, so I appreciate that. Timing is everything.”
Shade searched his mind for ways to maneuver through the still-cloudy waters of their meeting. He turned his attention to Bobby, who hadn’t moved or lifted his frosty gaze from Shade’s jugular for several minutes. “So, uh, Jess told me you were in the oil business?”
“Yeah, I work for a pump servicing company.” He scooted forward on the couch and clasped his hands in front of him. “I travel to different wells and maintain the pump equipment.”
“Does that include sales and installation?”
“Nah, that’s a different division. I do repair work. Mostly electrical.”
The conversation died again.
“What church did you say you’d found?” Jess asked.
“I’m at Cornerstone Fellowship. How about you?”
“We go with Bobby’s parents to the Cowboy Church.”
Somewhere in the house, a timer beeped.
Jess jumped up. “Chicken’s done. I’ll go put lunch on the table.”
Bobby grabbed her hand. “No, sit. I’ll do it. What about those rolls?”
“Just stick them in the oven.” She sat back down. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”