Love Remains (19 page)

“I think I can find that pretty easily. And I have to go to the state library to do some research Friday afternoon, so I could just swing by your office on the way there.” The archivist had told him that the library’s copy of the report Zarah had given to the senate committee would be available for him to look at by Friday.

An invitation to go to lunch, since he’d be stopping by her office around that time anyway, was on the tip of his tongue, but he clamped his teeth together. No need to push his luck.

He reached for his wallet and pulled out thirty dollars and handed it to her. He held it so that she couldn’t take it without her fingers brushing his. Though no bolt of electricity struck him when her fingers made contact with his, the back of his neck tingled at the memory of the last time he’d touched her hand—holding it as they walked around the mall in Las Cruces after a dinner of corn dogs and french fries. He’d picked up the engagement ring that afternoon—before she arrived at the mall—and considered proposing then. But he’d already planned everything for her eighteenth birthday: dinner at the Double Eagle restaurant and a starlight stroll around the plaza in Mesilla, culminating in the down-on-one-knee proposal in the bandstand at the center of the plaza.

But she’d run away. Or had she?

“I’m leaving a couple hours early on Friday, so try to be there before two o’clock.” She gave him a smile that wasn’t as strained as her initial greeting.

“I’ll do that.” He took his cue to leave when Flannery came in the door. But he kept half his attention on Zarah the remainder of the morning.

Last week, after Zarah had finished filling out the roll sheets, she’d left the room and been gone the rest of the time. This week, when Patrick called everyone to the chairs—set up in rows instead of the big circle now that attendance was back up to around sixty—Zarah handed her Bible and purse to Flannery, who used them to save her a
seat. Bobby smiled and sat with Ryan and the other guys he’d bested at laser tag a week ago.

Zarah didn’t know if it was her imagination, wistful thinking, or paranoia, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Bobby had been watching her ever since he’d entered the Sunday school room earlier this morning. She’d avoided looking at him, so she couldn’t be sure, but she had the uncanny sensation she was under constant surveillance.

And what was with him wanting to come by the office to pick up the tickets? She’d wanted to suggest he just get tickets at the door on Saturday—so far, though the presales of the tickets were good, none of the shows were sold-out. But he hadn’t even given her the chance to say she’d get them for him and wait for him and his grandparents before the show Saturday. Of course, he couldn’t know she was going to be there Saturday—could he?

Zarah looked down at the open Bible on her lap. Kiki and Lindy Patterson. Of course Bobby knew Zarah would be there Saturday. And it had probably been Lindy Patterson’s suggestion that Bobby go on Saturday, when Zarah wouldn’t have the buffer of fifteen or so people from the singles’ group.

She couldn’t back out without disappointing Kiki and Pops—and having to tell them why she wasn’t going. Truth be told, she was curious to observe Bobby away from the dynamics of the singles’ group—away from the adoring females who flocked to him, or at least couldn’t keep their eyes off him as soon as he walked into a room.

Before she realized it, Patrick started the closing prayer. She’d missed the lesson, worrying about Bobby—and promised herself as she closed her eyes for the prayer that this would be the last time it happened.

She murmured, “Amen,” along with everyone else.

“Before y’all leave, I have an announcement I’d like to make.” Patrick’s voice froze everyone in place.

Zarah frowned. Whenever he was going to announce something, he usually discussed it with her ahead of time.

“Stacy, you want to join me?”

As the petite brunette stood and made her way up the aisle between the rows of chairs, Zarah’s insides lurched. No. This couldn’t be what she thought it was.

Sure enough, Patrick put his arm around Stacy’s shoulders. “Last night, I asked Stacy to marry me, and believe it or not, she said yes.”

Zarah smiled and clapped along with the applause and cheers that broke out through the crowd of singles, just so she wouldn’t appear out of place. But she mourned inside. She and Patrick had worked long and hard to build this singles’ ministry. He’d been pulling away for a while now, and she couldn’t deny she’d suspected he and Stacy had feelings for each other. She just couldn’t believe things had progressed so far.

She’d seen it happen before. As soon as one high-profile member of the group “coupled up,” it seemed like everyone else felt like they needed to—which only created problems. The new relationships often created jealousy among the others and hard feelings between the couple if they broke up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Flannery hooked her arm through Zarah’s and leaned close, her voice low.

“Because I didn’t know.” Zarah struggled to keep her expression happy.

“You didn’t—you mean Patrick didn’t tell you before everyone else?” Shock hung from Flannery’s words and filled her light brown eyes.

Zarah shook her head, closed her Bible, collected her purse and sermon journal, and stood. “Apparently he didn’t feel I needed to know before anyone else.”

“But…but…it’s going to change everything, isn’t it? I mean, they’ll leave and go to the Nearly Marrieds/Newly Marrieds class, won’t they?”

Frustration gurgled in the pit of Zarah’s stomach. “I don’t know.” She smiled at the people who turned at her less-than-whispered statement then grabbed Flannery’s arm and dragged her to the end of the room away from the coffee and doughnuts.

“I don’t know what they’ll do because, obviously, I’m not important enough to even know that they were dating, much less getting to the point at which marriage was even on the horizon.” Zarah hugged her Bible and sermon journal to her chest.

“But you and Patrick have always been close. I mean, I grew up with him, and you know more about him than I do.”

“Welcome to the world of being me. I’m important only when people need me to do something but the last one they think of when it comes to anything else.” Zarah wished the words unspoken as soon as they left her mouth. Nothing like sounding bitter and jealous and immature upon hearing a friend’s good news.

“Oh, sweetie.” Flannery flung her arms around Zarah, apparently not minding that Zarah’s arms—still holding her Bible and journal close—pressed into her stomach.

Zarah wanted to draw comfort from Flannery, wanted to be able to shake off the sense of dread Patrick’s announcement had wrought. But she couldn’t let go.

Flannery ended the hug and stepped back. “We need to call Caylor and hash this out. Can you do coffee this afternoon?”

“No, I—” If she didn’t talk to Flannery and Caylor about it and try to figure out why she felt this way, she’d compartmentalize it, not deal with it, and end up back in therapy again. She didn’t have time for therapy. She had time for coffee with her two best friends. “Yes. If Caylor can make it, let’s get together with her for coffee this afternoon.”

“Are you still going to go to lunch with the group? I think it’ll be good for you—after all, everyone’s going to be looking to you more and more for leadership now.”

Eighty pounds of responsibility dropped onto Zarah’s shoulders,
but she found a smile in spite of it. “Gee, thanks for reminding me.”

“Come on, shake it off. Everything will look different after worship.”

Zarah walked down to the sanctuary with Flannery but parted ways with her when she saw Pops enter the auditorium alone.

She wound through clusters of people milling at the back of the large room and finally caught up with him about halfway down the outside aisle.

“Hello, granddaughter.” He reached his arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze.

Zarah leaned into his strength for a moment. “Hello, Pops. Where’s Kiki this morning?”

“Ah, she’s down in the nursery, keeping the babies. Want to keep your old grandpa company this morning?”

“Love to.” She slid into the pew he motioned toward just as one of the associate pastors called them to order and gave the opening prayer.

After the organ prelude and the choir’s beautiful a cappella call to worship, Zarah stood with the rest of the congregation to sing the first hymn. But as soon as everyone started singing, Zarah closed her eyes and reveled in listening to Pops sing the bass line of each hymn. As usually happened when someone sat near him who didn’t know him, the young mother in front of them turned around during the greeting time and asked him why he didn’t sing in the choir.

“Oh, I’ll leave that for the young folks,” he said, and he winked at Zarah when the woman turned to greet someone else. When he’d retired after fifty years as a minister of music—the last twenty of those being here at Acklen Ave.—he’d made the choice not to be involved in the music ministry, allowing the new minister to establish himself and his way of doing things without everyone looking to Pops to make sure it was okay.

Even though she tried to concentrate on the sermon, her mind wandered. Patrick and Stacy. The singles’ group. Bobby. Senator Todd
Warren. Flannery and her list of potential dates for Zarah.

That last thought brought a smile to Zarah’s lips. She looked up to her right, bringing her focus onto the stained-glass window depicting Jesus healing the lame man.

All right, Lord. I give up. I can’t handle any of this on my own. That’s clear. You seem to be throwing a lot of stuff at me right now, and I’m guessing You’re once again trying to teach me that the only way I’ll get through it is to depend on You. So forgive me when I fail to trust You and turn everything over to You. Because we both know I will. Please, strengthen my faith so I can make it through these trials
.

She was startled out of her prayer when Pops stood and opened his hymnal for the closing hymn. Zarah almost laughed when the organist played the intro to “Trust and Obey.” One point to God for showing her His sense of humor.

After the closing prayer, Pops put his arm around Zarah and kissed her temple. “You being social with the young folks today?”

“Yes, sir. I thought I’d go to lunch with them today.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. “My love to Kiki.”

“And hers to you. Now you’d best go, or you probably won’t get a seat.” Pops shooed her away.

Zarah laughed but didn’t want to admit how true his joke could be. On a few occasions when she’d been delayed leaving church, by the time she’d arrived at the restaurant, the rest of the group had already ordered and hadn’t thought to save a seat for her, even though she’d told them she was coming.

Oh, well. It was usually easy enough to pull up an extra chair.

“Zarah. Zarah Mitchell!”

She stopped and looked around for the man calling her name. The large foyer behind the sanctuary roiled with well-dressed people, most of whom Zarah had never met in the fourteen years she’d attended this church. Not because it was overly large, but simply because she was in the singles’ group. And they didn’t have much contact with any other groups in the church.

The associate pastor of adult ministries waved over the heads of several people between them. Zarah raised her hand in response and made her way around to him.

“Hey, Pastor Ben. What’s up?”

“I had hoped to catch you and Patrick together this morning, but it looks like he’s already slipped away, so I’ll shoot him an e-mail this afternoon. Pastor Joe would like to set up a meeting with you two sometime this week—probably Tuesday or Thursday evening—to discuss the singles’ ministry with you.”

Her heart thumped. In the eight years she’d been a leader in the singles’ group, never once had the senior pastor taken an interest in them—except when a delegation from the singles’ department had met with him six years ago to ask that the singles’ department be made part of the adult ministry instead of the youth ministry. Since then, they’d worked with Ben.

“I can’t speak for Patrick, but I can’t meet on Tuesday or Thursday, unless it’s after nine o’clock—I teach those nights. Tomorrow or Wednesday before or after Bible study would be the best days for me.”

“Pastor Joe can’t meet tomorrow—Monday’s his day off. I’ll have to see if he thinks he can make time for it on Wednesday. I’ll shoot you both an e-mail once the time is firmed up.”

“Can you tell me what the meeting is about?” Unable as she was to control her reactions, she hated being blindsided by anything.

“Um…no, I’d better leave that for Joe to tell you both.” Pastor Ben gave her a compulsory smile. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay.” She didn’t move for a few moments after the associate pastor walked away into the thinning crowd. Her insides writhed, eliminating the hunger pangs she’d had just minutes ago.

When she arrived at Sam’s Sports Grill, they were still in the process of pulling tables together, so she was certain to get a seat. Still wondering why the pastor wanted to meet with them, Zarah sank into the chair nearest her once the tables were finally in position to
accommodate the twenty-some-odd people.