“Kissing booth?”
Nick walked down the main street of town, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. A crisp breeze nipped at his cheeks, but the sun shown brightly and, if the weather forecaster was to be believed, there was no chance of rain or snow. You couldn’t ask for a better day for a carnival.
Traffic barricades at either end of Main Street created an eight-block thoroughfare of exhibits, game booths, and food stalls. The street teemed with people. It seemed as though the entire congregation of Faith Community Church had shown up for the celebration. A preoccupied Nick nodded and exchanged hellos with nearly everyone he passed as he craned his neck first left then right, looking for the infamous Kissing Booth. He hoped he’ d misunderstood Maura last night, or he’d have more than a little explaining to do at the next church council meeting.
Nick heard Maura before he saw her.
“Come on, folks, don’t be shy! Everybody gets a kiss just for playing!”
He quickened his pace, jogging through the crowd until he stood in front of the infamous game. A burst of relieved breath whooshed out of him as he looked over the “Kiss Booth,” which was decorated with foil-covered cardboard cutouts of Hershey's Kisses.
“Hey Sarah. Nathan.” He greeted the teenagers who worked behind the counter. Maura stood in front, encouraging all who passed to try out the game.
Nick leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Thank goodness you’re giving away chocolate kisses.”
Her eyebrows raised in innocent surprise. “Why, Nick, how could you think we were giving away anything else? That would be downright scandalous.”
Nick laughed. “I’m just glad I don’t have to hold a disciplinary meeting on Monday.” He turned back to the teenagers. “Tell me how this works.”
After they explained the premise of the game, he took his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a dollar. “So,” he said, waving it in the air, “for a dollar I get three chances? What if I get all three balls in a basket?”
Sarah answered him. “You get a monster Kiss.” She pulled a huge, one-pound chocolate candy from beneath the counter and set it down with a thunk.
“It's harder than it looks,” Nathan warned. “No one's been able to do it yet.”
Nick picked up one of the balls. “That's because I haven’t played yet.”
He took aim and tossed the softball at the basket in front of him. It hit the center, but immediately bounced up and out over the low rim.
“Definitely harder than it looks,” Nick said with a frown.
“They bounce,” Maura managed to squeak out past her laughter.
Two minutes later, with his wallet ten dollars lighter, Nick still hadn’t managed to get a ball to stay in a basket. But he had drawn a crowd to the booth. He tried throwing overhand, underhand, and sideways. He even closed his eyes once, and for the final ball, he turned his back to the baskets and tossed it over his shoulder, which produced a grunt from behind him.
“Sorry, Nathan,” he said, turning around.
The teenager grinned as he rubbed his shoulder. “You really suck at this, Pastor Nick.”
He laughed and nodded his head. “That I do, Nathan. That I do.”
“But that's okay because everyone's a winner!” Maura cheered, which brought a round of applause from the group that had stopped to watch. She went back behind the booth and leaned over the counter toward Nick. “You get one Kiss for every dollar you donated.”
“Great.” He leaned in toward her so they were almost nose to nose. “That's ten kisses. Are you going to give them to me?”
“I sure am. Close your eyes and give me your hand.”
With his eyes closed Nick became unusually aware of the sounds around him. Or rather, the lack of sounds. It seemed much quieter now as everyone waited to see just what would happen with the pastor and his wayward wife.
Maura's soft fingers closed around his hand, turning it palm up and spreading it open. “Here you go,” she whispered.
When he opened his eyes, he held a small bag of brightly wrapped candies. Nick grinned. “Thank you, Maura. Especially for giving me these Kisses in public.” He turned to the crowd who now laughed good-naturedly at him. “Who wants to give this a try and show me up?”
A flurry of dollar-wielding hands shot up, anxious for their chance to outdo the pastor. Lainie skirted her way around the mass of people and bounded up to the booth.
“Wow, what a response.” She nudged Maura with her elbow. “You’re a natural. Maybe I should just leave you here.”
Maura snatched her purse from under the counter and ran around to the front of the booth. “No way. I’ve got a date.”
Her choice of words caught Nick off guard, but he was really thrown when she linked her arm through his.
Lainie's smile grew broader. “Fair enough. Thanks for all your help. Now scoot, you two. Have fun.”
They walked down the street together, admiring the different displays. When Maura spotted a hot dog vendor, she pulled them both up short and took a deep breath.
“That smells heavenly.”
“It's just hot dogs.”
“I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast, and I’m starving. Besides,” she said, tugging on his hand, “sometimes nothing hits the spot like a street dog.”
“Well, let's get you fed.” He ordered a hot dog, chips, and a drink for each of them, which they carried to the picnic tables in the park.
“You sure are a cheap date,” he said as they sat down.
She ignored the comment and bit into the hot dog, groaning in delight.
“So,” Nick said as he opened his bag of chips, “does this mean you’ve forgiven me for being an inconsiderate boob last week?”
She must have been in mid-swallow, because she turned away and pounded her chest with her palm to stop her coughing fit.
Nick jumped up and leaned across the table. “You okay?”
She held up her hand and took a drink of her soda. “I’m fine,” she choked out. “You just took me by surprise.”
“I figured that out.” He sat back down, trying to keep his face serious.
Maura wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Yes, I’ve forgiven you. And I never called you a boob.”
He held a chip in the air. “But you thought it.”
She tilted her head, as if recalling that day, then shook it sharply. “Nope. It never crossed my mind. Seriously, though, I have been thinking about us. A lot.”
“What have you been thinking?”
“That if we’re serious about trying to work things out, it's probably good for people to get used to seeing us together again. Is that okay?”
Is that okay? He’d wanted little more since she moved back into his house and worked her way back into his heart. If only she told him she was ready to be his wife again, in every sense of the word, the moment would be perfect. But he knew better than to bring that up so soon.
“It's great,” he said, picking up his hot dog. “This is without a doubt the best Thanksgiving weekend I’ve had since we moved to Granger.”
Maura's eyelids drooped, and she looked down at the table. “Do you realize this is our first Thanksgiving together?”
She was right. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance. He’d met her in March. They’d married in early June, right before coming to Granger, and had only lived in the town for about five months before their marriage went bad and she left. They’d never shared Thanksgiving or the Founders’ Day celebration. They’d never spent a Christmas together, or even exchanged gifts.
“It looks like we’re in for a season of firsts, huh?”
They finished their lunch, and Nick threw out the empty wrappers, cups, and napkins.
“Thank you,” Maura said quietly.
“No problem. Got to do what we can to keep the town clean.”
She shook her head. “No, I mean for being so nice about everything. You know, between us. We both made mistakes, but the way I left
was wrong. I should have talked to you long before it got so bad. I should have told you … Anyway, thank you for giving me, us, a second chance.”
Her mouth tugged down at one corner, and she looked like she was about to cry. Surrounded as they were by music and laughter, it seemed an odd place to have this conversation. But hope sprung up in Nick's heart.
He cupped his hand around her cheek. “I’ve thanked God every day since you came back. Well, almost every day. There were a few days there when you got on my last nerve.”
They both laughed. “I’m sure you counted to ten more than once,” Maura said.
“You could say that. But I’m not easy to live with, either. Whatever you didn’t tell me before, I must have made you feel that you couldn’t. I’m thankful for the second chance too.”
Nick felt like a man who’d thawed out after being rescued from a snow storm. Every fiber of his body longed to hold her, to pull her close, and show her just how much he’d missed her. He wanted to ignore that they were in public and give the citizens of Granger something juicy to talk about. Instead, he kissed her on the forehead and drew her to him for a chaste hug.
She looked up at him, eyes warm and expectant. “What now?”
With one arm around her waist he led her out of the park and back toward the bustle of the carnival. “Now we’ll find a booth where I can actually win you a prize.”
14
This is it,” Nick said as soon as he saw the Kill the Computer Virus booth. “You know how good I am with darts.”
Maura winced. “Oh, yeah, I remember.”
Alice, the Dot Spot employee working the booth, knew Maura well from her daily coffee runs. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a prize even if he doesn’t hit anything.”
Nick plunked down a dollar. “Why is everyone so sure I’ll need the consolation prize? Now hand over those darts and tell me how this works.”
Alice laid three darts on the counter in front of him. “It's simple. Throw a dart, break a balloon, and find the computer virus.”
Nick picked up the first dart, taking careful aim. He let it fly, and it stuck in the board between two tightly packed balloons.
“Too bad the idea's not to leave the balloons intact,” Maura said. “That takes some real talent.”
“The first I’ve seen today,” Alice agreed, holding back her laughter.
Nick ignored both of them. “I’m just getting warmed up. This one's a winner.”
The next dart did hit a balloon, but it glanced off and fell to the ground.
“It bounced off,” Nick said in amazement. “How does a dart hit a balloon and not break it? What are they made out of, Kevlar?”
Alice shook her head. “Nope, they’re standard issue balloons. But they’re under-inflated. It makes the game more challenging.”
Nick nodded. “I see. That's okay.” He picked up the last dart and rolled it between his fingers. “I have a long-standing history with darts, and the third time has always been the charm.” He looked at Maura, his mouth lifted up in a crooked grin, and winked at her. “Isn’t that right?”
How could she forget the time he’d come into her father's coffee shop and “vanquished” big old Butch so he could take her out on a date? The Nick she knew back then had been spontaneous and went out of his way to spend time with her and make her feel special. A delicious warmth flowed through her body, despite the winter chill.
Nick held up the dart and closed his eyes for a moment. He moved his hand back and forth, as if making up his own throwing rhythm. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and sent the dart on its way.
It headed for the center of the board, but arced sharply down. It looked like it would drill straight into the booth's plywood floor, but at the last minute it caught the balloon at the left-hand bottom corner of the board.
Maura let out a shriek as the balloon exploded.
“You did it!” She threw her arms around Nick's neck.
He laughed as he returned the hug.
“Well, lookie there,” Alice said. “Not only did you break a balloon, you managed to find one of the bugs. You killed the computer virus!”
Nick and Maura broke from the hug and looked back at the board. Sure enough, beneath the pieces of ragged latex they saw a picture of a cartoon bug lying on its back, feet in the air, next to a tombstone marked “R.I.P.”
Maura patted Nick on the back. “Ooh, now I’m really impressed.”
“Don’t be. I aimed for the middle.”
Alice took on a philosophical tone. “In this booth, as in life, intentions don’t mean much. It's the results that count.” She pointed to either side of the booth where samples of the big prizes were displayed. “Since the lady always does the choosing, which would you like, Maura? A gorilla or a tiger?”
They left the booth a minute later, a stuffed white tiger under Maura's arm. As they walked, they were constantly greeted by folks who wanted to say hello, or tell Nick how good the Thanksgiving message had been. It was the kind of interruption that had driven Maura crazy when she and Nick first moved to Granger. They couldn’t go anywhere without people stopping Nick to talk about church business or to ask him about a personal problem. When it happened, Maura inevitably ended up standing off to the side, feeling awkward and ignored.
But now, their roles were different. Since Maura had become a presence in the community and the church, just as many people came up to say hello to her as they did to Nick. There were even a few people with whom she’d worked on the theatre project who hadn’t met Nick before, so she was able to introduce them. Rather than feeling like she was floundering and forgotten, Maura felt like she was part of something.
She was part of the community.
“Wow, the place looks great.”
“What?” Maura pushed her thoughts away and paid attention to where they were. They stood on the sidewalk in front of the theatre.
Nick admired the building. “I said it looks great. I go by here almost every day, but I still can’t get over how you revived the old place.”
The Music Box Theatre sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight. The display windows were spotless, and the brass around the ticket taker's booth had been polished till it shone. Big, bold letters on the marquee announced the grand opening on December 1, and replicas of vintage movie posters for a revival showing of It's a Wonderful Life hung in the “Now Showing” cases.
Nick walked up to one of the display windows that held posters, detailing upcoming events and group services that could be provided at the Music Box.
“The graphics on these are terrific.” He motioned at the poster with his thumb. “And I saw one of your brochures at the house. I’ve got to say, I’m impressed. I had no idea you could do all this.”
“Thanks, but I can’t take credit for the print ads. My only talent there is in hiring great people,” Maura said. “Pamela Schwaab did all the graphic design work.”
“Bettie's granddaughter?”
Maura nodded. “The same. You look surprised.”
“I am.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, cocking his head to the side. “Don’t get me wrong, Pam's a sweet girl, but she's a little …”
“Quiet?”
“Well, yes. Aren’t artistic people usually more loud and flamboyant?”
“I guess. But now you’re generalizing. You know you can’t judge someone by their outward appearance.”
“Ouch.” Nick winced, his reaction overdone and comical. “Maybe you should take over the pulpit next Sunday.”
Maura waved her hands in front of her. “Oh, no, buddy, not on your life. The last thing I need is to be a pastor.”
“Agreed. Besides, between me and Chris, we don’t need another pastor. But,” he added quietly, “we could use a pastor's wife.”
Maura narrowed her eyes. “We? As in, the congregation needs you to have a wife?”
“The congregation would like me to have a wife. But I need one. To be more specific, I need you.” He took a ste
p closer to Maura and put his hand on her waist. “So what do you think? Could ‘pastor's wife’ fit into your job description?”
Job description. Boy, he’d gotten that right. Maura had learned that being married to a pastor did bring with it some job-like aspects. That knowledge gave her a certain amount of power. Knowing what to expect, and what others expected from her, equipped her to deal with it. From that perspective, being a pastor's wife didn’t seem as daunting as it once had. But the crux of the problem stood in front of her: Nick himself. She loved him. There had never been any doubt about that. And she believed he truly did love her. But if she agreed and they got back together, would love be enough to sustain her during those times when it felt like everyone in the congregation came first?
“I think it's a strong possibility,” she finally answered him. “But I want to take it slow and make sure we’re both absolutely certain of what we’re committing to. For right now, how about we enjoy our date?”
She could tell Nick had hoped for a more decisive answer. But he had the good grace to smile and nod politely.
“You know how I feel,” he said, “so for now I’ll leave the ball in your court. If you decide you’re ready to move our relationship along, you just let me know.” He slipped his arm around her waist and led her away from the theatre.
As they walked down the street, Maura let herself relax. Now that Nick had given her the time she needed, she could concentrate on fulfilling the stipulations of Miss Hattie's will. But thinking about that made her tense up again. Her calendar was so full she hardly had a blank spot on it. Between the Music Box's grand reopening in a little over a week, rolling out drama classes, rehearsing the Christmas program, and working with the youth group, Maura saw little free time on the horizon. Somehow, she had to find a way to pencil in time to reconnect with Nick.
And there was the matter of what to do when she completed her time at the parsonage. At the end of January, the six months would be up, the deed to the Music Box would be hers free and clear, and she could live wherever she wanted. At that point she’d need to make a decision, one way or another.
The Pastor's Wife Page 12