Unlikely Praise (24 page)

He tried to rub her arm. “Settle down. People are starting to notice us and I know you don’t want that.”

“I want to disappear.”

“Too late. You’re gonna have to deal with your father.”

“I can’t.”

“You
can
. Go out there and talk to him. No one has to know the details. Just introduce him to your friends and leave it at that. I’m sure he’s here checking out the talent. Tell them he’s here for work.”

“But I don’t want to deal with him,” she spat out between clenched teeth. “I don’t want to make nice and introduce him to my friends. There’s a reason I never told the band much about my family, remember? My mom is long gone, and my dad was in jail. They’re going to think it’s kind of weird that he just showed up here.”

“But that’s what he did. He just showed up here. Probably because he knew you wouldn’t see him voluntarily. That’s what happens when you run from people who love you. They tend to be persistent and surprise you because they
love
you.”

She intended to take off for the opening of the tent and ended up making a few angry circles instead. “I’m going home.”

He reached for her hand. “You’re not going anywhere. Now get a grip on yourself because we’re going to talk to your father. And if you’ll please compose yourself and smile we can get through this.”

“Noooo,” she moaned. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doing this for you. Do you really think
I
want to see the guy? He ripped off most of my friends.”

He dragged her back up the steps and across the stage.

Pastor Charles had already arrived. The rest of the band had gathered their instruments and binders and stood with her father, obviously hanging on his every word. Like innocent children in the presence of danger, they had no idea what he was capable of.

Candi was surprised by his physical appearance. Not by how he’d changed, but rather how he
hadn’t
changed. She’d expected sunken cheeks, tired eyes, and grayer hair, but other than being a few pounds lighter, he was just the same. He stood there flashing his brilliant smile and handing out business cards as though he’d been in Cancun instead of jail. He even looked tanned.

“Here she is,” Pastor Charles said with a huge, but tentative smile.

Her father stepped forward. Shade nudged her toward him. It would look odd if she didn’t at least pretend to accept his embrace.

“C.C.,” he said and scooped her into his arms.

She cringed at the nickname only her father had ever used.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her hair.

The brush of his rough cheek against hers and the scent of Calvin Klein cologne detonated a blast of memories that sent a million fragments swirling in her brain.

She forced a smile and wrapped her arms around his thinner waist. “Hello, Daddy.”

“C.C.?” Max asked.

Kevin gave him a sharp jab to the ribs. “It’s her initials, braniac. Even I know that.”

“What are you doing here, Daddy?”

“Business,” he said and handed her a card. “I’m with Southwest Promotions now. They have an office in Austin.”

Rage hammered her insides. She wanted to scream and shove him off the stage and ask if the business was legitimate, though she’d never considered it might be.

As if he knew she was about to commit bodily harm, Shade pressed his warm left hand against the small of her back. He cleared his throat as he extended the other.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Don.”

“I’m as surprised as you are, Shade. Coulda knocked me over with a feather when I saw you up here on stage, but I’d know that guitar anywhere.”

Rocky rolled a little closer. “You two know each other?”

“I knew of Don’s work in Austin,” Shade answered. “Our paths crossed a time or two.”

“That’s amazing,” Carol Ann mused. “Small world.”

“Getting smaller every day,” Candi mumbled, which caused Shade to press harder on her back.

“I heard a rumor,” her father said to Shade. “I heard Remy Charbonnet and a couple of your guys were about to join forces and start a new venture. Word is you might be involved in that.”

She glanced up at Shade. A flash of surprise crossed his face and the slight hint of a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Can’t believe everything you hear in the music business, Don. You know that.”

Kelly offered him a bottle of water. “Are you here to see a band?”

“Thanks,” he said and removed the cap. “Yes, I am. My boss got a tip about a band from Madisonville that was coming in for this. I’m heading back over there to take a listen and if I like what I hear, I’m hoping to get some dinner with them afterward.”

“Wow,” Kevin said. “Sounds like a job for me. Listening to bands, eating out...”

“It’s not all that glamorous. I’m on the road constantly and very few leads pan out. The good news is,” he said and reached for Candi’s hand, “I occasionally get sent in this direction and can surprise C.C.”

She was surprised, all right. Surprised to the point of catatonia. Her throat tightened as she slowly pulled her hand from his tight grasp.

“We’ve had a long day, Daddy, and we have church in the morning. I’m sure everyone has stuff to do.”

Carol Ann took the hint faster than anyone. “Oh, yeah, I have to go. Bud’s sitting up with my mom. Bless his heart.”

“It was good meeting him last week,” Shade said. “Do you think he’ll come back tomorrow?”

“I’m cautiously optimistic. He was fairly impressed, and I know he told all his friends at work.”

Max escorted her to the steps and held her hand as she walked down. “Meant to tell you,” she added, “Wild Bill scooted out as soon as you finished. He said he’d see you in the morning.”

“That’s good,” Candi said. “I wasn’t sure he’d make it at all. I hoped he would stay home and rest.”

Max hung his stick bag over his shoulder. “Wild Bill wouldn’t have missed this.”

Kevin and Kelly picked up their cases. “We’re gonna head over to the other tent and meet up with some friends. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Rocky propped his bass in his lap. “Mind if I come?”

Kevin pushed his chair forward. “We’d be disappointed if you didn’t. You comin’, Max?”

“Yep.”

Pastor Charles slapped her father on the back. “I guess we’ll see you in the morning.”

Candi choked. “The morning?”

“I assume your dad will be staying over and attending services tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Pastor. It was nice meeting you.”

Pastor Charles wrapped one arm around her with his usual father-bear-like grip. “You did a fantastic job here today, Candi. Now behave yourself,” he whispered. “You’re doing fine.”

As soon as Pastor Charles cleared the stage, she charged at her father like a wounded animal. “What are you
really
doing here, Daddy?”

“I wanted to see you, C.C., and, since I knew you weren’t going to come to me, I took the first opportunity I had to come to you.”

“Not wise,” she spat. “If you think your big surprise appearance here while I’m working has endeared you to me in any way, think again.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“And what is this so-called promotional company you’re with? What is it, really? A front for your latest con? Believe you me, I’m going straight over to the tent to tell that unsuspecting band to run the other way.”

He seemed remarkably composed. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that, C.C. My business is legit. Scouting talent is all I do. I’m not involved in the monetary or contractual end of anything.”

She turned away from him then immediately spun back around. “If that is true, who would hire you to do such a thing? It’s like putting the fox in charge of the hen house. What kind of nutso employer would do that?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “I’m a convicted felon. I don’t have a lot of job options. But I
am
good at evaluating talent and fortunately there are a couple people out there who still know that.”

Her chest started to hurt again. He stood there so calm she wanted to punch him in the gut. He jingled change in his pocket and raked his fingers through his hair like he was in line at the bank. All the while, she stood there completely inside out with her soft tender organs exposed to everyone.

She sucked in a gulp of air. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here.”

Shade stepped forward. He pulled her to his side and tucked her under his arm. “That’s enough for tonight.”

She jerked away. “I’m not finished.”

“I can see that. But I think we’ve put on a big enough show for one day, so what’s say you pick it back up tomorrow after church?”

She took a quick look around. Most people had either gone home or to the other tent, but the ones who were left were sure getting an earful. So were all the workers trying to tear down the equipment. “I need to pack up my keyboard.”

“Max did it for you and sent it back to the church with Kevin and Kelly’s dad.”

“Then I guess I’m going home.”

“C.C. wait.”

She paused. He stepped toward her; she backed away.

“I’ve missed you, C.C. I want to get past all this. I need you to give me a chance to make this right.”

“I can’t do this anymore tonight.”

Shade scooped up his guitar. “I’ll walk you out.”

She counted her steps as she distanced herself from the insanity. Two, four, six... she couldn’t walk away fast enough. Halfway across the courtyard she ran out of steam. Her legs were too heavy and the stitch in her side developed into a constant ache. She dropped to the first bench she saw and started to cry.

Shade sat down and drew her close. “C’mon, Candi, it’s going to be all right. It’ll look a lot different in the morning.”

“That’s not it. I don’t like the way this feels.”

“You’re angry. That’s natural.”

“No...it’s not just anger, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“If it isn’t anger, then what is it?”

Her voice caught on the end of a sob. “I think I hate him.”

13

From:
Pastor Charles Littleton

[mailto:[email protected]]

Sent:
Sunday, May 17 6:49 AM

To:
Candi Canaberry

Subject:
Isaiah 41:10 NKJV

Candi:

Don’t forget...

“Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”

I’m praying for you, kiddo. In the office early this morning if you need anything.

Charles

Candi slid in the back door of the church and headed for the ladies room. She set her heavy make-up bag on the counter and prepared to take another look at the ravages of last night’s devastation. She gingerly tapped the puffy bags under her eyes. There wasn’t a cucumber slice big enough to remedy that.

She put the bag back in her purse and headed for the pastor’s office. He saw her coming and stepped aside as though he was expecting her.

He closed the door. “How are you feeling this morning?”

She stood in the middle of his office. “I am emotionally and spiritually numb. These past couple months have been tumultuous, and I’ve finally lost it. I can’t hear God, I can’t find peace, and I don’t know what to do.”

He pulled a lavender-and-navy tie off his door knob and hung it around his neck. He motioned for her to sit.

Every muscle ached as she dropped into the chair.

He sat behind his desk. “What ended up happening with your father?”

“It was ugly. We didn’t resolve anything. All I managed to do last night was look like a fool in front of everyone.”

“I see.” He tugged his tie into place and closed his Bible. He said nothing else.

She squirmed in her chair. Quiet desperation was not familiar territory. Painful silent moments stretched on. “Aren’t you at least going to say
I told you so
? Because you were right. I should have contacted my father weeks ago.”

He tucked his glasses into his shirt pocket. “Not my style.”

More stilted minutes passed. “Do you have
anything
helpful to say this morning?”

“That depends. Do you want to have our usual conversation where I try to give you my sage pastoral advice and you pretend to listen? Or do you want me to give it to you straight?”

She sucked in a breath. “Hit me with the truth. I’m ready.”

“You’re being pruned.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s the truth. You’re being pruned. I’d hoped you would have figured it out on your own by now, but there it is. God has His clippers out and, according to John chapter fifteen, He’s whacking away at your unproductive branches. There’s limited fruit on some of them so He’s cutting them back to allow for new growth. Out with the old, in with the new. You’re being pruned.”

Candi winced. “Remind me to never let you rip a bandage off me.”

“Sorry, but it’s high time you heard the truth while you can still learn from it.”

“OK...I’m being pruned. That would explain the massive blood loss and excessive pain. When does it stop?”

“When you’ve figured it out.”

“When will that be?”

“Hey, I’ve been trying to knock some sense into you for a year. You are one stubborn woman.”

“We’ve established that. What do I do? I obviously haven’t been able to see this for myself.”

“The Word says Jesus is the vine, we are the branches, and God is the gardener. As long as we stay intimate with the vine, everything is fine. As soon as we let our own issues like fear, anger, or unforgiveness get in the way, it separates us from the vine. When God sees that happening—”

“I know, I know. Pruners.”

“On the bright side, God only prunes when He knows there is potential for great fruit. He takes a good branch and makes it a great branch.”

“I guess I’m not even a mediocre branch. I’m a below-average wilting branch with some kind of parasite stuck in my bark. There’s no green left in me. I believe that passage also says my kind of branch ends up as firewood.”