Faithful (18 page)

Now she could surprise her boys and let them know she'd made it home in time to take them to church. She checked her watch as the phone rang and rang—it was eight thirty. She shouldn't have been surprised that they were sleeping in, but she wanted them to be dressed by the time she got there so they could speed out the door. The passengers moved slowly toward the front and off the plane. Phyllis hung up, dialed again, and got voice mail once more. Looked like they'd be going to the second service.

She headed to baggage claim, a knot tightening in her stomach at the thought of Hayes. Would they clash again over Cole? The thought made her head hurt. She had hoped to return rejuvenated, her perspective brighter. And as she watched the first pieces of luggage circle around, she guessed she did indeed feel a spark of rejuvenation.

But only when she thought of Rod.

C
YD AND
D
ANA
worked their way up the aisle left of center to the fourth pew from the front, the spot where they always sat with Scott and Phyllis. They thought they'd arrived early, but bodies mingled in the aisles and leaned over the backs of pews, engaged in livelier conversation than Cyd had ever seen this time of morning . . . except when Dana passed.

Those who knew her greeted her tentatively, like they weren't sure if they should. Others hushed and stared, and around the sanctuary Cyd saw heads turning their way and a couple of fingers pointing. She put her hand to Dana's shoulder and squeezed it.

Dana led the way straight to their pew and plunked down with a sigh, leaving just enough room to allow Cyd the aisle seat. But before Cyd could sit, she felt a hand on her shoulder—and the butterflies took flight. Cedric.

“Cyd, I saw you come in.” He looked down the pew with a worried expression. “Can I join you?”

There were more people in their pew than normal but there was still plenty of room, since the middle to back rows were filling first. Cyd nudged Dana to move down, and she and Cedric sat. He had the semicasual look of most of the guys, a pair of slacks and a polo-type shirt. She leaned over so she could hear him.

His voice was almost a whisper. “What did you tell the pastor?”

Her brows knit. “What are you talking about?”

He brought his head closer. “When I got home after, you know, I heard this message about a sermon on sex, and it blew my mind. I know you're close to Pastor Lyles. Did you say something?”

“I would never tell the pastor something like that. This sermon series has nothing to do with you.” Then she raised a brow at him. “Well, maybe it does. Just wasn't premeditated.”

Cedric narrowed his eyes at her. “Very funny.” He leaned across, extending his hand. “I don't think we met formally. I'm Cedric London. Weren't your kids in the wedding?”

Dana shook his hand. “Yes, they were. Nice to meet you. I'm Dana Elliott.”

“I remember seeing your husband yesterday. Is he here?”

Dana nodded, eyes downcast. “He's in the prayer room with the pastor and the elders.”

Cyd could tell this sounded curious to Cedric, and she hoped he wouldn't press it. He'd put it together soon enough.

“Mind if I stay here beside you?” The mischief in his eyes from yesterday had returned.

Cyd shrugged. “I don't mind.”

She said a silent thank-you that the butterflies had died down. This morning had been the sweetest prayer time she'd had in weeks. Dana and Scott were her focus, but as her prayers got going, it didn't take long for God to shine the light on last night. She asked for forgiveness for ignoring the warnings in her heart and crossing boundaries with a man whose intentions she knew from the beginning. She also asked God to take away the desire she felt for Cedric, to purify her heart.

“Can you believe how many people are pouring in?” Cedric craned his neck toward the back. “This is crazy.”

Cyd turned to see . . . and was stunned. “Dana,” she said, tapping her shoulder. “Look.”

Standing in the back of the sanctuary as people moved around him was Hayes.

“You should go talk to him,” Dana said.

Cyd nodded and stood. “Excuse me, Cedric.”

He moved his knees aside, and Cyd slid out and down the aisle. She couldn't believe it. This was what they'd been praying for. In the midst of the heaviness of the service, this was a glowing bright spot.

Cyd saw him leave the sanctuary. She followed through the doors. “Hayes?”

He turned. “Cyd. Hi.” He straightened his tie, one of only a few men under fifty wearing a suit. He held a coat over his arm.

She gave him a light hug. She liked Hayes. Always friendly and helpful, and they could get going on some rather esoteric discussions of ancient cultures. When Cyd found out he had minored in classics— and when Hayes found out she was a classics professor—an odd bond formed immediately between them.

“Excuse me,” Cyd said to a woman passing by, though she was the one who'd been bumped. She moved away from the doors. “It's kind of crazy here today because we're only having one service.”

“I know.” Hayes cleared his throat. “I answered the phone last night and heard the message.” He looked around and lowered his voice. “Isn't Scott Elliott Dana's husband?”

Cyd lowered her eyes slightly, nodding.

“I thought so.”

Hayes seemed to have more on his mind but kept it inside. Through the speakers in the lobby, Cyd could hear the first notes from the band and the singing of the praise and worship team. She gestured toward the door. “I think there's still room near us.”

“Oh . . . okay.” He followed Cyd back through the doors.

Cyd had never seen Hayes so reserved and unsure of himself, but Phyllis had said he hadn't been to a Sunday church service since his youth.

Lord, draw him to Yourself. Open his eyes to the truth
.

More than a dozen people stood at the top of the aisle Cyd and Hayes needed to go down, an usher blocking their way. As Cyd came near, she saw the back of a blonde head, then the woman's profile, and a tight blouse with a good amount of cleavage—Heather. Big as the church was, was it mere coincidence she was trying to get down the very aisle where Scott and Dana usually sat? The last thing Dana needed was Heather drama this morning.

But looked like no need to worry. The usher wasn't budging. “I don't know how else to say it,” he told the mini assembly. “This section is closed. There are plenty of seats still in the overflow area.” He motioned with his hands. “Out the door to the main lobby, take the staircase or the elevator to the lower level, to your right. You'll see everything these people will see, on a large screen.”

A woman looked upward. “Is the balcony full? I want to
really
see what these people will see.”

The usher followed her eyes to the balcony. “It's almost full. If you're by yourself, you'll probably be able to find a seat.”

Cyd watched the people begin clearing away, and Heather was forced to leave with them.

Thank You, Lord
. She went forward. “Hey, Michael.”

“Hey, Cyd.” The usher stood aside. “I know you already had your seat. You've got room for him?”

Cyd nodded, and when she and Hayes passed, Michael blocked the way again.

Voices rang throughout the sanctuary as they walked down the aisle. Everyone was standing, singing the lyrics that flashed on the big screens up front. When Cyd came to the pew, Cedric leaned back to allow her to scoot past. Then he noticed Hayes behind her, and his body filled the space again, giving Hayes the aisle seat.

He looked at Cyd as if she'd explain who Hayes was. She stared up front, joining in the chorus.

P
HYLLIS HUSTLED ACROSS
the courtyard to the main building with several other parents who'd dropped their kids off in the children's ministry building. She had gone there first, after stopping at home and finding no one, to see if it was true. Had her family gone to church? At first she'd thought they were out “having fun” as Hayes had said, but she doubted he'd get them up and out so early for that—and the little dress Phyllis had faced outward in the closet for Ella was gone.

She'd poked her head into Cole's sixth-grade class and couldn't believe he was there. When she got his attention, he was all smiles, and before she could even ask, he told her that Hayes had awakened them this morning and informed them that they were going to church.

“I couldn't believe it, Mom,” he said. “God answered our prayers after all.”

Speechless, Phyllis left his room, but before she could ponder the news, she had another question. She stopped Barbara, a Sunday school leader, in the hall and asked, “Is it my imagination, or is the church super crowded today?” That was when she heard the second piece of news.

Now she had two reasons to hurry to the sanctuary.

She scanned faces as she moved through several pockets of people inside. She didn't see Hayes or anyone else she recognized.

Probably eleven thirty folk
.

She cast a glance at the stairs she could take to the balcony or down to overflow. No telling where Hayes was, and given the traffic jam in the parking lot and the number of people hanging in the fellowship area, the sanctuary had to be filled to capacity.

She headed to her usual doors anyway. If Cyd and Dana were in the normal spot, maybe they could make room for her.

Michael stopped her. “Phyllis. I know, I know, I know. But I can't.”

Her eyes implored him. “Michael, come on.”

“That's what all the nine o'clock regulars been sayin': ‘Michael, come on.' Like I'm supposed to make space appear out of nowhere. Can't do it. Should've gotten here earlier.”

Phyllis spoke over a woman giving the announcements. “But I just got back in town.” She peered out over the congregation. “And my husband's here somewhere.”

She didn't know why she added the last part. This was the extent of her acquaintance with Michael the usher. He had no cause to know her history, that in all of her years attending Living Word, she'd come with her children alone.

Michael looked curious. “Your husband? The one with Cyd?”

With Cyd?

“Dark skin brother, kind of thick?” He hulked his shoulders.

“Yes.” She nodded. “That's him.”

“Yeah. He was standing here by himself, looking like he wasn't sure if he was staying or going, till Cyd walked back and got him.” He paused. “He doesn't usually . . . I mean . . . never mind, it's none of my business.”

Phyllis's expression was warm. “No. He doesn't usually come. It's his first Sunday, in fact.”

Michael took a single step aside, and Phyllis mouthed a thank-you.

Several thoughts strung together and flew through her head as she started down the aisle. What was Hayes
doing
here? He'd been so adamant that he wasn't coming. What changed his mind? And what was this about a sex series and a public confession by Scott?

She couldn't believe it when she saw Hayes with her own eyes. There he was, in one of his best suits, looking down at the program. The men's choir sang a beautiful song of praise, a favorite, one that always lifted her heart to the throne and overwhelmed her with the majesty of God.

Lord, forgive me for my lack of faith. And for allowing my heart to stray. Thank You for bringing Hayes here
.

She touched his shoulder, and he looked up with obvious surprise. A chain reaction started as the women moved purses to the floor and tightened up the spaces between them. As Phyllis took the aisle seat, she gave a tiny wave to Cyd and Dana and wished she could speak to Dana privately. Something awful must have happened over the weekend. But she'd have to hear it along with everyone else.

Her eyes met Hayes's.

“What are you doing here?” they whispered simultaneously.

Phyllis went first. “I decided to take an earlier flight. What are
you
doing here?”

He shrugged and looked down, rolled the program into a slender furl. “The church called with this message last night—”

“I heard.”

“And I wanted to hear what Scott and the pastor had to say.”

Phyllis frowned. “Really?”

One of the elders began to pray. She tried to focus on the words, but there was too much swirling in her mind. Hayes wanted to hear what Scott and the pastor had to say? How many times had she attempted to share with him something the pastor said and he stopped her cold? And Hayes could barely stand Scott, much as she'd hoped otherwise, given her friendship with Dana and Cyd.

The three women had formed a close bond ever since Phyllis started coming to the church. They sat together every Sunday and gathered at Cyd's for dinners once or twice a month. Dana suggested they include the husbands in their circle from time to time, but Phyllis had mixed emotions. She knew a Christian man like Scott might rub Hayes the wrong way. But if they hit it off, Scott could also be a great influence.

Eventually Phyllis had agreed and they set it up, but Hayes came home from the dinner with an attitude. Scott was too high and mighty, he said.

Phyllis was shocked. “Scott's one of the nicest people I know,” she had said. “How was he high and mighty?”

Hayes gave her a look over the top of his eyes. “What about the story about the football game?”

“All he said was he and Mark prayed before the game that day that Mark would catch a pass because he had dropped two the week before.”

“Yeah, and a miracle happened. Mark caught the pass.”

Phyllis put a hand to her hip. “He didn't call it a miracle. He said God answered their prayer and Mark caught three passes. How does that make Scott high and mighty?”

“He just has that air like he does everything right.” Hayes lifted his head in a mocking gesture. “‘I even pray with my son before football games.'” He grunted. “All I asked him was how the season was going. He could've kept the other stuff to himself.”