Читать книгу A Blessed Life - Dana Corbit - Страница 13

Reverend Bob turned to another passage in his huge black Bible on Sunday morning, the flutter of pages amplified by the microphone.

“In the Book of John, did Jesus say to the woman at the well, ‘You are a sinner, so I cannot look at you’? Or ‘Because I am a Jew and you are a Samaritan, I cannot speak to you’?”

Murmurs of “no” popped up in the packed sanctuary.

“Not my Jesus,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “Not my Lord who loves all us sinners. Instead He told her about His ‘living water.’ Shouldn’t we aspire to our Lord’s type of compassion? Let us all love our neighbors without falling to the temptation to judge.”

Reverend Bob shut his Bible with a snap, startling Andrew in his seat just behind the minister’s left shoulder. He hoped no one noticed how far his thoughts had been from the Samaritan woman and how close they were to the lady frowning in the back pew.

Serena obviously had been trying all through the service to keep her daughter quiet. Tessa couldn’t have been that loud, or he would have heard her. But how could he have heard anything over the crinkling of candy wrappers, seventh-grade giggles, and what could only have been a snore elsewhere in the sanctuary?

Memories of his own childhood antics in church filtered through his mind—of crawling under pews, rustling hymnal pages and faking sneezes. And of spankings and more painful criticism after the services. Somehow, he felt certain Tessa’s reprimand would be a loving one.

Heat scaled his neck, so he glanced to the other side of the auditorium, away from Serena, who sat ready to entrance him again. He steadied himself as he rose for the invitation. He had to get out of this service and into some private prayer where he could find perspective.

That goal helped him through the closing hymn. Only his regular stint in the greeting line remained; then he’d be free for a few hours until the evening youth group meeting. He pressed through the crowd, but two women became a solid wall of delay.

He pasted on his best smile and called for a heavenly gift of patience. “Hello, Mrs. Sims.” He nodded to the elder before turning to the younger. “And Charity.”

Laura Sims shook her index finger at him, making a clucking noise. “Now, Andrew Westin, you know you don’t have to be so formal with me. You call me Laura, or at the very least, Sister Laura.”

He nodded. “Of course, Laura. Did you ladies enjoy the service today?” It was so much easier to address the two of them jointly rather than speaking to Charity individually and risk accidentally encouraging her interest in him. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

Matchmaker Laura always seemed to be pushing her near-spinster daughter in her search for a suitable son-in-law. No matchmaking would have been necessary if Charity had possessed a sweet personality to match her trim figure, golden hair and green eyes. Frustration filled him that he continued to be prospect number one—all because he had chosen a career in the ministry.

Charity stepped forward. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve always found the woman at the well story to be a difficult one. She was living in sin and everything. It would be so hard for me to…you know.”

Andrew met Charity’s gaze for the first time in the conversation, and the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her filled him. It was wrong, and he knew it. He should have been concerned with her spiritual growth, just as he was with Serena’s. But her judgmental attitude got under his skin.

“Reach out to her, you mean? Didn’t Christ set a great example of what we all should do?”

“That He did, Andrew. That He did.” Laura patted Andrew’s shoulder as if they were already related and she were relieving familial stress.

“I’d better get to the door. Reverend Bob is waiting for me.” He hurried up the aisle, but most of the members had already gone outside, all except Serena and Tessa. Serena looked as though she were a reluctant captive in her conversation with the minister. Tessa seemed to be having a great time clanging coat hangers.

“Hey, Tess.” He swung her up in his arms. “Were you having trouble sitting still in church?”

She shrugged, a mischievous look lighting her eyes. “I’m hungry.”

He lowered Tessa, squatting before her and trying to keep a straight face. “I’m sure it’s tough when you’re hungry like that. But I bet it would make your mommy happy if you’d try to sit still and be quiet during the service. God would be real happy, too.”

“Okay.”

Okay. It was as simple as that to a child. Why did everything become so complicated for adults? Serena looked over at him, appearing grateful.

The glass door opened and Hannah popped in to relieve Andrew of his tiny charge. The two girls, one quite a few heads taller than the other, darted off hand-in-hand.

He wished someone like Hannah had taken him under her wing when he was Tessa’s age. Things might have been different. With someone to smile at him, to express the tiniest bit of pride in him, instead of judgment and disappointment, he might not have tried so hard to prove the dire predictions correct. Maybe then…

“Isn’t that right, Brother Andrew?”

The sound of his name ripped Andrew’s thoughts back to the present, with only remnants of past pain coming along for the ride. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was telling Mrs. Jacobs that we usually go to the Big Boy after church,” Reverend Bob said.

“Sure thing. I never miss it, especially the chance for an ice cream sundae.” Funny, he’d have given anything to miss it today. He needed to get his head together, to figure out why he felt this need to be near Serena.

“Mommy, can we have ice cream?” Tessa asked as she and Hannah skipped past on their way back out the front door.

Over her shoulder, Hannah yelled at them. “Yeah, Dad. Me, too.”

Reverend Bob turned back to Serena. “Then, it’s settled. You’ll go with us.”

Andrew didn’t like the way his insides betrayed him by turning to gelatin. He stiffened, hoping to cover his internal weakness. “Sure, Serena, it’ll be fun, and a great opportunity for your local pastoral staff to grill you about your past.”

Serena rolled her eyes. “Sounds great.”

Reverend Bob turned to the two women behind Andrew. “You’ll join us, too, won’t you Laura and Charity?”

Andrew looked away to hide his grimace. Why did he not want the woman who’d pursued him relentlessly in the same room with the one he wanted to assist through a tough time? It shouldn’t have made any difference. But it did. Charity would see Serena as a threat. Whether the threat was real or fictional wouldn’t make any difference. And he was smart enough to realize Charity wouldn’t be kind to the competition.

“Do you have a career outside the home, Mrs. Jacobs?” Reverend Bob asked, after wiping his mouth on a napkin.

Several smaller tables had been pushed together forming a table so long that Hannah and Laura, sitting on opposite ends, couldn’t converse without yelling.

“Not outside the home, but I do have a job in addition to parenting.” Serena set her fork aside. “I’m a freelance writer.”

“What do you write?” Reverend Bob asked.

“Oh, everything from advertising copy to magazine articles to text for Web pages—about anything, as long as it pays and it’s legal.”

“What does Mr. Jacobs think about you spending so much time at home away from housework and your child?” Charity smiled sweetly as if she had not just asked an incredibly tacky question.

Serena swallowed hard, her mind searching wildly for any reply that would somehow keep her dignity, while putting this unprovoked attacker in her place. As much as she wanted to say that Mr. Jacobs was too busy bothering the new Mrs. Jacobs to have any time to annoy her, she doubted it would have the desired effect.

“I’m a single-parent. Working at home is a financial necessity. It helps me make ends meet.”

Charity nodded and took a drink of her water, making it clear that she’d gotten the message. The way Andrew, sandwiched between Charity and her mother, seemed to be fighting back a grin, told Serena he approved of her approach. Why that mattered, she wasn’t sure. Serena counted the seconds until the can of worms exploded, and her wait was short.

“Are you a widow, then, dear? Or are you divorced?” Laura’s distaste was clear in the acidic way she said the word.

“Divorced,” Serena answered.

“That’s unfortunate.”

Unfortunate for whom—for my family because of the difficult challenge we’re facing or for your family because you think I might be competition? Now, why had she thought that? It wasn’t like her to be mean-spirited, but lately nothing about her resembled her former self.

Reverend Bob planted his hands on the side of the table, just as he planted them every Sunday on the edges of the lectern, and like magic, all attention turned to him. Instead of making some momentous announcement, he changed the subject. “Serena, I suspect you and Charity are about the same age. She is a nurse at West Oakland Regional Hospital, in Labor and Delivery.”

Serena smiled at Charity, pitying any mother who had to deliver a baby under her watch. No, she had to give the woman the benefit of a doubt. Charity was probably just having a bad day. “That must be a great job, watching all of those babies come into the world.”

Charity didn’t smile. “Except when it’s not…when there are problems in delivery. Or worse. On those days, I’d just as soon be somewhere else, working checkout at a discount store or something.”

Her eyes were suddenly shiny, and she stared out the window at something only she could see. Serena’s eyes burned at the thought of the devastating losses Charity would have witnessed. How had she handled it? Serena couldn’t imagine the pain those parents must have faced. She didn’t even want to.

Automatically, she turned to the end of the table where Tessa and Hannah were playing ticktacktoe on the back of a place mat, oblivious to everyone else at lunch. Reaching into her satchel, she withdrew a plastic bag containing Tessa’s medication and a liquid measuring syringe. “Here, Tessa, take your medicine.”

“No, I want Hannah to give it to me.”

It wasn’t worth the battle right now. “Hannah, will you do it?”

Hannah administered the medicine easily. Serena put the supplies away and went back to her chicken sandwich.

Reverend Bob finally broke the silence that had settled around them. “Why does Tessa take medication?”

Serena filled them in on the major details of Tessa’s illness, surprised that her words produced no more than a small ache. Maybe it would only get easier.

Laura watched Hannah and Tessa, who were shoving coins in the candy machines near the exit. “Oh, the poor dear. She’s such a sweet little thing.”

Serena warmed just watching her giggling child. “She’s a real trooper.”

She tried to stop her thoughts from traveling down their typical dark path of pain. Studying her hands for a few seconds, she looked up to see Andrew watching her, his expression compassionate. Without his moving, he seemed to reach over to touch her hand. She was surprised at how she was comforted by that thought. Who could blame her? It seemed like a lifetime since anyone had offered her support.

Andrew pushed back from the table and tucked his hands in his suit pockets. “Have I told everyone that Serena is the newest Sunday School teacher in the youth group? She starts next Sunday.”