Читать книгу Head Over Heels - Gail Sattler - Страница 12

“What are you doing?” Marielle yelled over the sound of the drill.

“I’m making a hole,” Russ said as he pushed down until he was all the way through the table. “This is much neater, to have the cables go through instead of stringing everything along the table and over back. But this is really to make sure everything stays put.”

She watched as he tore open a package and, using the special glue, fastened a metal loop to the side of one of the monitors.

He turned to the teens who were watching every move he made, and said to Jason, “I’m still feeling a little banged up. Can you crawl under the table and stick this on the side of the tower?”

As he dotted the glue onto the flat section, Marielle stared at the hole in the table. “These are our banquet tables. When there’s a special occasion, we use these upstairs. I was going to just put the computers on the floor when we need the table.”

“Not anymore. This is now a dedicated computer table. I’m dedicating a second one on Monday, and they’re not moving. I’ve already talked to Pastor Tom. I’m donating two new tables, so you won’t be short. I don’t feel good not having the computers secure.”

He bent down to watch Jason attach the looped metal piece to the right spot. “Okay, Jason, unplug everything, will you?”

She stood back as Russ pulled all the cables up from the back of the table, then fed everything plus a plastic-covered chain back down through the hole. While lying on the floor, Jason plugged everything back in, fed the chain through the metal loop, now firmly attached to the case of the tower, then poked the end of the chain back up through the hole. Russ put the chain through the loop attached to the monitor and fastened both ends of the chain together with a small padlock.

“There. When they’re all done, the only way these computers are going anywhere is to put everything below up onto the table, and carry everything out at once, and not through a window, but through a wide, double door. I can guarantee you that if a couple of thieves were to walk down the street carrying a banquet table with five computers strapped to it, they would attract attention.” He paused and rested his hands on his hips. “Although, I wonder if it’s possible to chain the table to the wall….”

“This is good enough,” Marielle said.

“Okay.” Russ smiled, picked up the drill and revved it in the air. “One down, four more to go.”

She expected to hear a Tim “The Toolman” Taylor grunt along with the noise of the drill, but it wasn’t forthcoming.

Now that all the teens knew what they were doing, everyone wanted to help, but they only succeeded in getting in everyone else’s way, especially since each had a piece of pizza in one hand and was eating while working. Russ showed considerable patience in letting them all do something, but it was slow going.

When the process was finished, a couple of the girls straightened and aligned everything on top of the table, and one boy swept up the wood shavings.

“Okay,” Marielle called. “Enough time inside. Everybody out!”

Russ watched the teens file outside. “Out?”

“We play basketball every Friday night, weather permitting. Some of these girls are pretty good, and they’re all pretty tough when backed into a corner.”

He frowned. “I don’t doubt that. Tell me, what are you doing here, in this neighborhood? You don’t seem like you belong here.”

“A few years ago, there was a fire in my apartment building. Everyone got out okay and there was minimal damage to most of the suites, but they had to close the building for a few weeks for inspections, repairs, and then to get out the smell of the smoke. It was the middle of tourist season and there was a big convention in town, and by the time I started looking for a hotel, everything the insurance would pay for was full. A friend of one of my aunts lives not far from here, and she invited me to stay at her place for a few days, so I did, because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. We made an instant connection. I went to church with her on Sundays, and the rest is history.”

She didn’t mention that Pastor Tom was the one who had given her the most emotional support and had guided her into doing something constructive with herself after Michael dumped her for another woman. Her own pastor had sided with Michael, telling Michael he had done the right thing, that they weren’t really suited and it was just as well that he’d cancelled the wedding.

That was definitely true, but the way Michael had dumped her was cruel and heartless.

Her own pastor hadn’t done anything to try to ease the hurt. In fact, it was Pastor Tom and a few people from this poor and needy congregation who had helped her deal with everything, including canceling many of the wedding arrangements. and it was then that Marielle had found the true meaning of friendship.

Besides, Michael and his new wife had started going to her other church, and she hadn’t been comfortable there anymore. Now, two years later, she probably could go back and worship in the same room as them, but at the time, the hurt was too fresh. She just couldn’t. Still, she would never leave this church and all the good people who helped her when she needed it. It was her turn to give something back, and she was.

“Didn’t you have anyplace else you could go? Parents? Siblings? I’ve always been close to my mother and my sister, and I know if anything like that ever happened to me, that’s the first place I would go.”

“My parents travel a lot. It’s hard to explain, but they really don’t have a place to call home, at least not with a regular address. Not long after I got a job and got my own place, they came into a tidy sum of money. They sold their house, quit their jobs and got a motor home, and they’ve been traveling ever since. They generally stay someplace for a few months, and then move on. It’s their goal to live for a while in every state, including Alaska, before they die. So far, they’re doing pretty well.” Marielle grinned from ear to ear. “You should see the pile of postcards I’ve collected over the past two years. And the pictures they e-mail to me are spectacular. My mother is talking about writing a travel book, and I think she should.”

He blinked and stared at her, which was a common reaction when she told someone about her parents’ adventuring ways. “Don’t you miss each other? When do you see them? Do you have any other family?”

Marielle shrugged. “Of course I miss them, but we keep in touch. They’re having the time of their lives, and I’m happy for them. They’ve planned to come visit me for Christmas this year, so that’s going to be extra special. I’m an only child, and both my parents are also from one-child families, so it’s just me here now that they’re gone. But that’s okay. I’ve got my church family here, and I’m happy. I haven’t felt this right about a place, ever. God wanted me here, and so here I am.”

She wanted to say that God had put her in the right place the day of his accident, too, but for the first time, he was asking her personal questions and she wanted to keep the conversation open. She didn’t want to give him any reason to shut her out.

He turned back to the teens, who were dividing themselves in to two teams. “Do you ever play basketball with them, or do you just watch? Or do you referee?”

Marielle laughed. “I referee and try to keep the boys from getting too competitive.”

“This I have to see.”

“We’ve changed the rules to be less aggressive and more fair for co-ed. They abide by it, so it works for me.”

They stood to the side to watch the scaled-down game until the sun began to set and the light became insufficient to see properly.

“Now what?” Russ asked, as all the teens moved back inside the building.

“I try to encourage them to play board games, but I’m not always successful. Usually we just sit and talk, and whenever I can, I try to steer the topic to an informal Bible study. They know this is a church, and they’re bound to get stuck being forced to listen to some religious content as a condition of getting to use the facility. Some of them are believers, some of them are undecided, some of them aren’t open yet, but they put up with me. I just do what I can, and I hope they make it through Saturday and come back on Sunday.”

“Do they?”

“A few, but I wish it was more.”