Love Song (14 page)

He smiled and leaned back in his seat. “That’s a pretty long headline.”

“They’d probably delete the earth shaking part.”

His smile widened, and he started the Blazer. “Not if they were factual.”

She watched him as he backed the Blazer out of the drive. Such a simple thing, observing someone you loved, yet so pleasant. She didn’t think she would ever grow tired of watching the way he moved—strong, confident, precise. She would never become weary of looking at his face, learning each expression—one second, alert and cautious as he pulled out into the street, the next sending her a teasing smile.

“By the way, don’t plan on counting that as partial payment for all the work I did today.”

“Seems to me that was the equivalent of a whole stack of Yankee dimes.”

Turning down the street leading to the freeway, he considered her statement. “Could be. But I figure it was a bonus for sharing you this evening.”

She shrugged. “That sounds reasonable.”

He looked surprised. “What? Not even a little protest about increased costs?”

She leaned toward him as far as the seat belt and shoulder harness would allow. “Sugar, my mama didn’t raise no fool.”

***

When they got back to Dawn’s, Wade reached behind the seat and pulled his present out of the paper bag. Smiling, he handed her the gold foil gift box, trimmed with lacy gold ribbon and a bow. “You forgot something at the mall.”

“What?” she asked, her expression puzzled.

“Open it and see.”

With an excited smile, she eased the ribbon from around the box and set it and the bow carefully aside, then pulled off the lid and folded back the white tissue paper, revealing the embroidered denim vest. “Oh, Wade,” she said softly, “it’s beautiful.” She lifted it out of the box, holding it closer to the windshield to see better in the street light. “It’s even prettier than I thought it would be. You’re so sweet.” She leaned over the console and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Think it will fit?”

“It should.” She scooted forward in the seat and slipped it on. “Perfect.”

He glanced at the vest, which did fit well and looked very nice, but he was more interested in the warm glow in her lovely eyes. He cradled her face in his hand.

“Perfect,” he whispered, before collecting a portion of his day’s wages.

When Wade pulled into the Community Church parking lot Sunday morning, Andi surveyed the building and the people as they greeted each other with smiles. She had spent a great deal of time during her junior high and high school years inside those walls, talking, laughing, and sometimes crying with many of the same people.

The church had a different minister, a man in his mid-thirties. Both Dawn and Wade thought highly of him. Although Andi would have enjoyed seeing their old pastor, she decided it was good he was no longer there. He knew her too well. He would have looked into her eyes and seen the things she had seen, the roads she had traveled.

By the time Wade parked and turned off the engine, the butterflies in her stomach had stirred into a panic. “Are you sure they’ll let me through the door?”

He smiled in understanding. “Relax, they’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“I don’t know about that. I suspect some of them think I’m some kind of brazen hussy.”

Dawn leaned forward from the back seat and squeezed Andi’s shoulder. “If they do, they will keep it to themselves. One of Pastor Marshall’s first sermons was about not judging others. The next one was on gossip. We’ve never had too much trouble with either one, but we don’t have any now. Besides, if somebody gives you trouble, Wade will hang them from the rafters by their thumbs.”

Andi smiled in spite of her apprehension. “Hope you have a tall ladder.”

Since Andi’s first visit was bound to cause a stir, they had purposely arrived when church was scheduled to begin. Ray and Della were saving space for them in the pew, and they slipped into their seats as the song leader announced the number of the first hymn. Excited murmurs flew around the auditorium, a low hum not hidden by the scraping of the hymnals against the wooden racks as they were drawn from the backs of pews or the rustle of paper as the church members searched for the right page.

The book was new, but as Wade opened it to the first song, Andi was thankful to see it was an old hymn, “Standing on the Promises”, with which she was familiar. According to Dawn, they still sang hymns each week, but also choruses and praise songs, many taken from popular contemporary Christian music. Dawn had taught her some of them, but Andi had worried that if they sang something she didn’t know, people would realize how very long it had been since she had set foot inside a church building.

She relaxed slightly and sang the song from her heart, being careful, however, to moderate her voice so she didn’t overwhelm those directly in front of her. She was surprised to discover how much of it she still knew from memory.

At the end of the song, the pastor told them to turn and greet one another. Miss Atkins and Mr. Garner sat directly in front of them. Andi almost did a double-take when the undertaker turned around to say hello. Dressed in his typical black suit, she expected the somber, cadaverous man she remembered. Instead, she encountered twinkling blue eyes and a genuinely warm smile. The man had also gained twenty or thirty pounds so he no longer looked like a walking skeleton.

“Andi, dear, it’s so nice to see you,” said her former school teacher. “You look as if you’re feeling much better.”

“I am. It’s nice to see you, too.” Andi greeted Mr. Garner, then was gently nudged by Wade, who introduced her to the young couple and their small daughter sitting behind them.

As the congregation resumed their seats, the pastor asked if anyone had met someone new. A couple on the other side of the church were introduced, and one of the high school kids had brought a friend. They were greeted by warm applause. Andi was thinking how much she liked this new informality, when she heard the pastor ask Dawn if she would like to introduce her cousin. Dawn had warned her this would probably happen, and that it would be appropriate for her to greet the congregation if she wanted to. She suddenly realized how much she wanted to thank them for their prayers, even though she was still nervous about what kind of reception they might give her.

“I understand that to many of you, this lady is not a stranger,” said the pastor. “But some of us have not yet had the privilege of meeting her, only praying for her.”

Wade covered her hand with his. Strength and peace flowed through her, and she once again thought how right it would be to always have this man by her side.

Dawn stood up and took the cordless microphone that a young man handed to her. “As most of you know, I received a call several weeks ago that my cousin, Andi Carson, had been rushed to the hospital.” Mist filled her eyes, and she cleared her throat. “Her friend asked me to pray, and to ask others to pray, because the doctors weren’t sure if she was going to make it.”

Andi heard Wade’s sharp intake of breath as his grip tightened painfully on her hand. She glanced up at him, meeting hurt and accusation in his gaze. She leaned toward him, and he lowered his head so she could whisper in his ear. “I didn’t know these details until late last night. They only told me that they had been worried.” He loosened his hold, but still kept her hand clasped firmly in his.

“I called the prayer chain,” said Dawn, “and you got busy. You not only prayed, but you called friends in other churches and asked them to pray. For almost eighteen hours, we didn’t know if Andi was going to live or die. God was gracious and heard our prayers.” Dawn’s smile lit up her face. “And he even added a special treat by letting her come stay with me while she mends completely. So, now that I’ve stolen all her thunder, I’d like you to welcome my cousin, Andrea Carson.”

Wade gave Andi’s hand a tiny squeeze and released it before she stood on shaking legs. She was greeted by enthusiastic applause as she took the microphone from Dawn and smiled at the others in the sanctuary. “Thank goodness Dawn warned me she might do this.” Hearing a few chuckles, she let her gaze drift around the room. “I see many people I knew in this church as I was growing up, people I know prayed for me when I was ill. I also see many faces I don’t recognize, but I understand you were praying, too. I want to thank each of you, and everyone else who prayed for me, from the bottom of my heart.”

She paused, collecting her thoughts, intending to end quickly and sit down. Her gaze landed on two rows of teenagers sitting at the front. Not a one of them fidgeted; no one looked bored. They were hanging onto her every word, some with tears rolling down their cheeks. It hit her that Wade and Dawn had been right. She had an opportunity to make a difference if she had the courage to be honest about her life and her renewed faith. In that moment, she understood that everything that had happened to her—both good and bad—had been for a purpose. Her belief in Jesus was not only to be shared in quiet times with individuals but publicly as the Lord led.

Uncertain as to what she should do, she looked at the pastor. He smiled kindly and nodded. “Go ahead, Andi. I believe the Lord has something he wants you to share this morning. We’re not bound by a strict schedule, as long as we don’t forget to take the offering,” he added with a mischievous grin.

Several people laughed, and Andi felt some of the tension drain away. She turned back to the youngsters, her gaze lingering on one young girl. “I accepted the Lord as my Savior when I was just about your age. He was very real to me, a close, dear friend.” She scanned the row as she talked, looking directly at each boy and girl. “But when I went off to seek my way in the world, I slowly left Jesus behind. There wasn’t a specific time when I decided I didn’t want to live for him anymore; I just drifted away. Life got busy, and I didn’t think I had time to go to church. I quit reading my Bible, and gradually even stopped praying.

“It took several years, but I worked hard, concentrating only on my career, and finally achieved the success I had dreamed of. I became famous, at least with the millions of people who enjoy country music. But do you know what I discovered?” Several of the young people shook their heads, and not one of them looked away. She sensed that she also had the attention every other person in the room, except possibly for the young mother who was carrying her fussy baby to the foyer.

“I wasn’t even as happy as I’d been in high school. There was this great big emptiness inside, and I couldn’t figure out why. I must be pretty dense, because God had to let me almost die before I would slow down and take time to listen.”

Her gaze skimmed over the faces in the crowd and found no condemnation. “He used two very wise, dear people to talk to me.” She glanced at Dawn and Wade. “They helped me realize that I could never be whole without God’s love and peace in my heart, that I needed his joy to find happiness. They also helped me to see that I couldn’t let my feelings of guilt stand between me and Jesus, that he forgives and sets our feet back on the right path with loving kindness. He has been watching over me all along, protecting me in ways that I’m only now beginning to understand.

“I’m not quite well, but I’m getting better every day. I want to serve the Lord in whatever way he wants. You folks helped save my life, so I’m going to be selfish and ask you to keep praying for me for a while, to ask him to clearly show me that direction.” She turned toward the pastor, murmuring her thanks, and handed the microphone back to the young man who had brought it to them.

She sat down, and the minister thanked her for sharing, but Andi barely heard him. As she slid back against the pew, Wade put his arm around her and hugged her close—right there in front of everybody.

***

That afternoon, Andi reclined lazily in an outdoor lounge chair in Wade’s back yard. Dawn and Della sat at the picnic table looking at a new book on antique snuff boxes that Della had found on a recent trip to Houston. Ray sat near Andi, playing with one of the hired hand’s cats by trailing a piece of twine along the ground until the animal caught it. The big orange tabby had sauntered along a few minutes after the scent of frying fish filled the air.

Andi watched Wade expertly roll another portion of catfish in the cornmeal and drop it into the wire mesh fryer basket with three other pieces. He lowered the basket into the deep fryer filled with hot oil, making this the seventh or eighth batch of fish he had cooked since their arrival. He had a metal table set up as a cooking area on the patio with a single gas burner fueled from a special tank.

After his various comments downplaying his ability in a kitchen, she was surprised to learn he actually did the cooking. Taking her first bite, she instantly decided he had fish-frying down to an art, and his tossed green salad was excellent.

Struggling, she awkwardly pushed herself up out of the lounge chair. When Ray grinned, she shrugged. “No way to get out of one of these things gracefully.”

“Not unless you’ve got real long legs.” He tossed the cat a bite of fish and laughed as the animal hopped up on the vacant chair. “Or if you’re a feline.”

She strolled over beside Wade. “How much are you going to cook?”

“As much as anybody wants.” His smile held more than a trace of satisfaction. “Something tells me you like catfish.”

“I like this. I’ve never had fish of any kind that tasted this good.”

He puffed out his chest. “Must be the cook. It also helps to eat it as it comes out of the cooker.” He looked around, first at the low, grassy hill behind the house, then up at a single cloud, turning orange from the setting sun. “Being outside and in good company makes it better, too.” He motioned to several cooked pieces on a plate beside the cooker, each one about a third of a fillet. “Those should be cool enough to eat by now.”

“No more for me. I’m stuffed.”

He turned to the others. “There’s more fish over here if you want it.”

Dawn and his aunt shook their heads, but Ray meandered over and picked up a piece. He quickly dropped it back on the plate. “That one’s got the directions still on it—
put me down
.”