Whatever He Wants

by Bridgett Henson

  James grimaced at her reproving look. “I never intended to hurt her.”

  “Who’s at the door?” A booming male voice came from within the house. “If it’s Frank and Paul, tell ‘em to come around back.”

  Mrs. Maher turned and answered, “It’s James.”

  The urge to run intensified when Joni’s dad came to the door. James swallowed the dryness in his mouth under Mr. Maher’s scrutiny. “Sir.”

  The door opened. “Come in. Watch the games with us.”

  The invitation was friendly enough, but James remembered Mr. Maher’s warning of long ago and wondered if he kept a gun in the house. “I really can’t.”

  “I insist.” Mr. Maher waved his hand and walked farther into the house.

  James lost all sense when he stepped into the foyer. “Just for a minute.” Joni’s mom and the lady that had gotten baptized with her walked out the door as he walked in.

  Mr. Maher hefted a tray of ham and cheese. “I’m sorry about Isaac.” Understanding flickered in his expression. Not sympathy or judgment, and no sermon. “Losing a son could drive a man to desperation.”

  James nodded. “It could.”

  Mr. Maher handed him the platter and grabbed another filled with sliced vegetables. “Hang in there, son. I know it hurts, but you’ll make it.”

  “Yes, sir. I will.”

  James followed Joni’s dad down unstained wooden stairs. The converted basement had two sets of sliding glass doors. Beyond them and a concrete patio he glimpsed a beautiful view of Mobile Bay.

  In the room, a middle-aged man sat in one of the two recliners in front of a large TV. One of the first NCAA tournament games played on the wide flat screen.

  Perpendicular to the chairs, a sofa and loveseat matched the daybed in the far corner. A bathroom door stood open along the wall. “Have a seat. You want a beer?”

  James sat on the loveseat’s cushioned edge and put the platter on the coffee table. “No, sir. I’m good.”

  “James, meet my brother, Dave.” Mr. Maher picked up the tray and slid the door open with his hip. He disappeared into the back yard.

  James shook Joni’s uncle’s hand. Though his hair was gray, Dave’s grip was solid.

  As they exchanged greetings, Mr. Maher returned with two empty trays. “Women. They’ll never understand us.” He placed them at the bottom of the stairs and dug in a closet. James caught the bag of snack mix on reflex. The second period of the game started and he settled on the two-cushioned couch.

  During the next commercial, Mr. Maher passed James a beer out of a small refrigerator. The snack mix had dried out his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Name’s Bill. Or have you forgotten?”

  “No, sir.”

  Mr. Maher entered the bathroom and closed the door.

  Dave popped the top on a can. “So, James, what do you do for a living?”

  “I fitted pipe, but now I hire on as a foreman.”

  “Same company, or different outfits?”

  “Same. They keep me working. Travel a lot, but that’s good too.”

  “Ever been married? Kids?”

  James swallowed, shook his head, and opened his beer. He didn’t want to think of Isaac.

  “I could use a good hand like you. You looking for work?”

  “No, sir. I’m due in New Orleans Monday morning. Anyway, it might be awkward working for Joni’s dad.”

  “So that’s how the wind blows.”

  James shrugged.

  “You’ll work for me. Bill agreed years ago that I could hire the hands.”

  “Don’t go there.” Mr. Maher returned, reclined back in his chair, and tilted his can to his mouth.

  “First crew he hired on,” Dave laughed and shook his head. “Sorriest bunch I ever seen.”

  Joni’s dad chuckled. “They were kinda scraggly.”

  Four empty cans later, James propped his feet on the loveseat. Music chimed into the basement. Bill pointed at him and then toward the stairs. “You’re young. Get the door, will ya?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The notes sounded again while James stumbled up the stairs. He opened the door. Joni’s boyfriend from last night lowered his hand.

  The intruder frowned in surprise. “Who are you?”

  The beer buzz must be getting to James. “The butler.”

  Pretty Boy tossed his head and cleared his throat. “Tell Joni that Matt is here.”

  Balancing against the doorframe, James couldn’t stop his grin. “She’s not here.”

  “Her car is.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Do I know you?”

  James crossed his arms over his chest. “Nope.”

  “You were at the restaurant last night.” Matt’s face flamed. “At the bar.” His chest expanded and he bit his lip. “And in the parking lot. Forget it. I’ll call Joni later.” James shut the door and staggered back down the stairs.

  “Who was it?” Bill tossed a handful of snack mix in his mouth.

  James flopped down on the loveseat. Beer splashed on his hand. He slurped it up before it could roll down onto the fabric. “Some guy looking for Joni.”

  Bill snickered, spewing crumbs halfway across the room.

  Dave laughed. “Bet that was awkward.”

  “Nah.” James grinned. “Not at all.”

  A few minutes later, the sliding glass door skidded open. Two guys in their early thirties waltzed in carrying a cooler between them. “Hey, you started without us.”

  Dave straightened in his recliner. “James, meet my boys Paul and Frank.”

  Frank, the tall one, knocked James’s feet to the floor and landed beside him on the couch.

  “Nice to meet you.” He attempted to stand, but his vision blurred, and he sank back into the cushions. Instead, he held his can up in a toast.

  Why was Paul grinning from the other sofa? “Joni’s gonna bless you out.”

  James shook his head, leaned forward, and whispered, “She’s not speaking to me.”

  Paul fell back laughing. “Yeah, I know. But that, my friend, will change soon enough.”

  Frank took possession of the remote and an NBA crowd cheered from the stands. “Toss me a beer.” Paul said something about watching the fireworks. Which didn’t make sense? New Year’s had come and gone.

  ~~~

  Marla’s headlights illuminated a Silverado in Joni’s parents’ driveway. The truck James drove last night? Uncle Dave’s Yukon and Paul’s Camaro crowded beside the shiny rims.

  “Are you okay?” Marla snapped her fingers.

  “I spaced out. Sorry.” Joni stepped out of the car and reached in the backseat for her bags from the outlet mall. “See you at church in the morning. I think I need to walk off all those yeast rolls on the treadmill.”

  Her friend laughed. “Me too, girl.” With a wave, she backed into the street.

  Joni circled the truck. A chrome toolbox sat on back while a duffle bag and a hard hat lay on the bed liner. No doubt, it belonged to James. He had the cleanest truck she’d ever seen. What was he doing here? And where was he?

  The inside of the cab was empty. Unease churned in the pit of her stomach. If James was in the basement with the men in her family, the term “March Madness” had new meaning.

  She set her packages down in the foyer and walked through the empty living room toward the kitchen.

  Male laughter surged up from Dad’s den. As an unspoken rule, Joni never ventured in The Man Cave, as mom called it, when her dad had friends over. But with James’s truck out front, she made an exception. The volume of the basketball game drowned out her soft footfalls.

  Her breath caught. James constructed an elaborate house of cans on the coffee table.

  “Man, what’s wrong wich ya? You sippin like a lil’ girl.” Water rained down as Frank reached in a cooler and tossed a silver can across the room.

  Paul caught it and set it on the floor. “No thanks. Ever since Nancy started to church with Joni,
she’s been after me to stop drinking. The less she knows, the better.”

  Joni froze on the steps.

  Frank stretched his legs. “I refused to let Pam go. Our life is fine. Don’t need no help from no God.”

  Uncle Dave shot a miserable look to Joni’s dad. “Too late for Patsy and Martha. Wish I knew the fool who introduced Joni to church.”

  All heads turned to James. Frank kicked the table and James’s masterpiece tumbled to the floor. James held his hands up and shrugged. “How’s I ‘posed to know she’d love it?” He circled his hands. “God just kinda…” He sagged against the sofa. “He stole her.”

  Joni gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. She held her breath until her dad said, “You better steal her back.”

  James tilted a can to his mouth and then smacked his lips. “I tried to.”

  The conversation changed to “my truck is better than your truck.” Joni waited a few minutes, hoping they’d talk about church again. None of the men noticed her presence until she stepped in front of the screen.

  James struggled to his feet. “Hey, be-beau-beautiful.” He blinked and swayed slightly.

  “You’ve been drinking?”

  His head jerked back and forth. She lifted a brow at his beer can, which was quickly passed to Frank. The elder of her two cousins grinned and raised both hands. “Thirsty?”

  Her dad sent her a silly smile. “Give ‘ames a break.” Hiccup. “I like ‘em.”

  James’s stupid grin lit a fuse deep inside her. “You got my dad drunk?” She rounded on him. “How could you? First, you show up out of nowhere last night and ruin a perfectly good date. And now this?”

  He wrinkled his brow. “I’m sorry?” James burped. “Excuse me.”

  Laughter surrounded her. “Uncle Dave, are you on his side, too?”

  His bright eyes widened and he pointed a finger at her. “You should’ve came home sooner. James watched four games wait’n and a man needs refreshment.” He cackled out a laugh and slapped the arm of the recliner. “Oh, that’s good. Hope I remember to tell Patsy that one. A man needs refreshment.”

  Joni inhaled deeply and held on to her composure as her dad and Uncle Dave high-fived. “Ya’ll are a bunch of drunks. You know that, right?”

  Paul remained silent and grinned from the sofa. He acted the most sober of them all.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  He shrugged. “I think James is a pretty cool dude.”

  “Tank you.” James stumbled forward. She caught him by the arms before he face-planted.

  “Hurry up and beg forgiveness.” Uncle Dave let out a long burp. “Game six is on. Turn it up, Frank.”

  Her dad nudged her out of the way with his foot. “Can’t see TV, honey.”

  James kissed her hand while leaning against the metal basement support. His eyes floated in their sockets. “Pleeze? Will you love me, again?”

  Her traitorous eyes blurred, but she was not having this conversation until he was sober. Without a word she stalked away.

  “Joni.” James staggered after her. “Joni!”

  She ignored him and climbed the stairs. Something crashed behind her. James lay sprawled on the steps. Two of her mother’s best appetizer platters lay in pieces around him.

  He rolled to his back and moaned. “Jonaaaay!”

  “Ugh.” She flounced down beside him. The game consumed the others’ attention. With his shirttail, Joni wiped the blood from his lip. “You are pitiful.”

  “Don’t leave me. I do love you, Joni. I tried not to, but I can’t help it.”

  Her heart squeezed. “What happened to your Toyota?”

  He groaned. “Light pole.”

  Decision made, Joni dug in his front jean pockets.

  Laughing, he slapped at her hands. “Not in front of your father. Ouch! Watch it.”

  “Quit squirming.” She claimed the truck keys and ascended the stairs. Over her shoulder she called, “I’ll give them back in the morning.”

  In the kitchen, she grabbed her packages, then ran up the carpeted stairs. Once in her room, she fell across the bed. “Lord, if you save him, I promise I will never lust over him again.”

  Three hours later, she removed the extra blanket and pillow from her bed. The house was quiet as she tiptoed down the two separate staircases. The backyard streetlight illuminated a path around the scattered beer cans. James was sprawled on his back across the sofa.

  Her heartbeat stalled. Even in his sleep he affected her. Why? Why couldn’t she forget him? What made him so special?

  She removed his shoes and placed his feet on the cushions. He snuggled into the blanket and mumbled her name. Joni kissed his temple and crept away, up to her room.

  ~~~

  Joni’s scent engulfed him. He forced his eyelids open and searched for her. Her smell came from the blanket. Hers?

  “James?” Bill’s voice yelled down the stairs. “You awake?”

  “Yes, sir.” A million hammers pounded his head. “Ugh.” He hated hangovers. Careful not to jostle his brain, he eased up the stairs.

  “You too, huh?” Bill slid a box of headache powders across the bar. “Glasses are next to the refrigerator. Water’s on tap.”

  James shuddered at the foul taste in his mouth. “You got any tomato juice?”

  “No. We’ll stop and get some on the way.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “The girls are highly ticked. Probably more my fault than yours, and the way to appease a woman is to give her what she thinks she can’t have.”

  James didn’t understand and the sunlight hurt his eyes.

  “Church, son. We’re going to take back our women.” Bill nodded at the clock. “Can you be ready in twenty minutes?”

  “Sir, I don’t know if church is the answer. We could get trapped in there.” James shook his head but froze when the room spun. “And right now, I’m okay with hating God.”

  “That’s good.” Bill scratched his balding head. “You hate God. I don’t believe He exists. So we make a pact. We go in. Smile at the girls and get out. No giving in. If I start to cave, you get me outta there. I’ll do the same for you. And no praying.”

  James exhaled. “Let’s do it.”

  The plan was to slip into a back row, but all three were filled. “Now what?”

  “There’s Martha up there.” Bill lowered his voice. “Can you handle the fifth row?”

  James ignored the stares directed his way. “If you can.”

  His mom and Sara gawked as he passed their aisle. The collar of his borrowed, button-up shirt choked him. Bill slid in the pew beside his wife. James followed. Joni’s uncertain smile found him from the platform.

  The music started and the service began. Her voice enthralled him. He’d forgotten how good she sounded. The stares multiplied as she slipped in between him and her father after the praise and worship portion of the service.

  Her hand slid into his as she whispered. “I can’t believe you brought Dad to church.”

  “Is that okay?”

  Her smile tripped his pulse. “It’s more than okay.” She laid her cheek against his shoulder and he absently kissed the top of her head.

  Pastor loosened his tie and wrapped a white handkerchief around the cordless microphone. The congregation stood as he read Samson’s life story from the book of Judges.

  James reclaimed Joni’s hand and squirmed against the pew.

  Pastor stepped off the platform and wrinkles appeared on his bald head as he smiled. “I want to talk to some Samsons today.”

  James rolled the stiffness from his neck. This was a bad idea.

  “Before you took your first breath, God had a plan for you.” Pastor threw one arm in the air. “Handsome and strong, Samson made some bad decisions.”

  Joni hung on the preacher’s every word. James caressed the back of her hand, hoping to regain her attention from the sermon. She flinched as the messenger from God slapped the communion table.

&nbs
p; Placing their joined hands on his knee, James covered them with his other palm.

  Pastor paced in front of his congregation. He stopped in front of Joni’s section. “Samson had a hindrance. Delilah was her name.” He switched hands with his microphone and then pointed straight toward them. “You have a hindrance and you know their name.”

  Her hand wrestled out of James’s grip. He glared at the preacher and wrapped his arm behind her.

  “You may love your Philistine, but…God! Loves! Him! More!” Pastor wiped his forehead with the handkerchief and paced on.

  Knuckles white, Joni clasped her hands together on her lap. James weaved his fingers through her hair while trying to calm his erratic pulse.

  “God knows how to save them. But you! You have to let them go!”

  He reached across with his right hand, but she gripped a hymnal tight. He scrubbed a hand down the bridge of his nose while Joni’s eyes followed Pastor’s every step. Her lips pressed together in a tight line.

  “You want the anointing? You want to live in God’s blessings?” Pastor jumped on the platform and stepped behind the pulpit. “Samson, you must choose. God’s Spirit or your Philistine? The altars are open.”

  People flooded the front. James stood and blocked Joni’s exit. He whispered, “I love you.” Her sad smile triggered waves of panic. He was drowning and he didn’t know how to tread these dangerous waters. “Joni? Let’s go get some lunch. You choose the place.”

  “I need to pray first.” She squeezed around him.

  He grabbed for her but she was out of his reach. He swore under his breath. Pastor grinned from the platform. He knew what he’d done, and he was proud of his accomplishment. James suppressed the urge to knock the grin off his face.

  A still, small voice from long ago breezed through James’s thoughts. She’s Mine. If you want her, you’ll have to go through Me.

  He glared at the cross glowing above the baptistery and mumbled under his breath, “I’ll never let her go.”

  ~~~

  Joni fell across the prayer bench and called out to her Savior. “Help me. Jesus, I love him, but I love you more. I love you more than this world. I love you more than James.” Sobs racked her body and she cried out to Jesus unashamed. Comforting hands surrounded her as her friends labored with her in prayer.

  When she was spent, she wiped her eyes and lifted her head. James winked from the back of the church. Joni prayed. Jesus, I can’t do this without your help. His mother kissed his cheek and walked out the door. Joni smoothed her skirt and met him in the center aisle.

  He squeezed her hand. “You okay?”