Hope's Corner

by Chris Keniston

  “Combat boots?” He felt his brows arch high on his forehead. “Which brother?”

  “Bo.”

  “You’re kidding! How did I miss that?”

  “You weren’t around much then.” She poured two cups of coffee. “You’d gone to college at UT. Bo went to community college here for two years before transferring to Tech.”

  “Combat boots.” Jeff shook his head. At least when he was going a little crazy in college, all the girls he hooked up with would have been suitable enough to take home to mother. Well, most of them anyhow.

  “Then we have your brother Kenny. He looks like the poster child for the all-American boy. If my brother Jake ever gave up banking, the Hells Angels would take him without hesitation.” Pam slid into her seat, waving a finger at him. “And when was the last time you and one of your brothers arm wrestled over who got the first slice of pie?”

  “Actually, I was fifteen, and it was the last slice of pie. I sort of broke Danny’s finger.”

  “Sort of?”

  Jeff hitched a shoulder. “It was an accident.”

  “Okay. So maybe your family isn’t perfect.” She gave him one of those sweet smiles he’d grown so accustomed to and couldn’t resist returning. “But I’m still glad your mom invited me to come for supper after church today.”

  “I think Emily was glad she invited you too. I’ve never seen that child so quietly content.”

  “She’s a sweet little thing.”

  “You’ll make a great mom someday.”

  Pam’s smile faded. “I’ll be happy as aunt Pam.”

  “You don’t want children of your own?”

  She toyed with the handle of her coffee mug. “I used to.”

  “Used to?”

  “We…Travis and I…always thought there’d be plenty of time to start a family.” She didn’t look up at Jeff but kept her eyes focused on the warm liquid in front of her. “I can’t imagine having anyone else’s children.”

  “I see.” That would be such an awful waste. Anyone could see how great she was with children. His niece didn’t warm up to just anybody. Heck, his own sister-in-law had been surprised at how easily Pam seemed to entertain his normally exhausting niece. “You’re still pretty young. With time, maybe someday—”

  “No.” Pam raised her eyes to meet his. “I don’t want to ever do that again.”

  “That?”

  “Love a man with everything you have, everything you are, only to lose him.”

  “Losing someone you love is a horrible hurt.” He’d never been in love with Jenny Buckner, but her death, so young, so tragic, ate at him like a cancer. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the pain Pam must have suffered. Especially if she’d seen her husband murdered. “It doesn’t have to be that way.” He reached out to touch her hand and thought better of it, letting his hand fall back to his side. “Just because Travis died doesn’t mean—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she cut him off. “When Travis died, I felt like crawling into a hole and never coming out. No one expects to be widow at my age, to face that soul-shattering loss. I don’t ever want to hurt that much again. I can’t. I won’t. Besides, even if replacing Travis didn’t seem utterly obscene, I’ve already had the love of my life. A girl just doesn’t get that lucky twice in a lifetime.” As if she’d declared something as benign as “The weather seems to have turned cold,” she pushed her seat away from the table and grabbed the coffeepot. “Another cup?”

  “Sure.” What the heck? He didn’t need to sleep tonight.

  “What about you?” Back in her seat, Pam stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee.

  “What about me?”

  “Your nephew seems to think you could hang the moon.”

  “I don’t make him eat his peas,” he said with a smile.

  “There’s more to it than that. He never strayed more than a couple of feet from your side all night and not once did you make him feel unwelcome.”

  “Making people feel welcome is part of my job description.” Or it will be for a little longer.

  “Bull.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. That’s a load of crapola if ever I heard some.”

  Suddenly Jeff felt like a teenager back in high school, and the fiery Pammy Sue who would clock anyone who spoke ill of the folks she cared about was sitting across from him. It was a nice sight to see.

  “Well?”

  “Sorry.” He took a slow sip of coffee. “I was just thinking about when I played ball with your brother.”

  “How’d we go from you’re good with kids and should have some of your own to my brother and baseball?”

  “The mind is a funny thing.” He shrugged. “And why does everyone suddenly feel compelled to marry me off?”

  Laughing, Pam dribbled coffee down her chin and stuck out her tongue to lick up the errant drops. The simple action punched him hard in the gut, sending an unexpected pool of warmth southward.

  It took a few deep breaths to squelch the unexpected rise in his libido. For heaven’s sake, this was Pammy Sue. Jake’s kid sister. His mom’s next-door neighbor. An employee at the church. Technically, his employee. Sure she was a pretty woman. Okay, a beautiful woman. And men reacted to beautiful women. It was genetic. Not his fault. But still, he wasn’t just any man, and she wasn’t just any woman.

  Thankfully, she gave up on using her tongue to clean her face and grabbed a paper towel from the counter behind her. “I didn’t say you should be married. Just that you’re good with kids.”

  “Yeah, well.” He shifted in his seat and took another deep breath. “It’s sort of a requirement in my line of work to have a wife before you start making babies.”

  He was going to have to stop thinking of the church as his line of work. Once he returned to the corporate world, no one would give a rat’s behind about who he had dinner with, did or didn’t sleep with, and whether or not he was married or making babies.

  The room grew loudly quiet. He could hear Pam take a sip of her coffee. Knew she was watching him. Could feel her gaze on him as surely as he could feel a warm woolen blanket.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” she whispered from across the table.

  “Not worth that much.” He made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Narrowed with concern, they drilled into him with laserlike precision. If she couldn’t read his thoughts, he was sure she could at least see into his soul.

  “I don’t believe that for a minute,” she finally said.

  Peaches chose that moment to land with a thud on the table, flick her tail in Jeff’s face, and strut over to her mistress. He’d have almost been willing to swear the cat turned to give him a warning glare before stepping down onto her lap and curling up in a fuzzy ball.

  “I can hear her purring from over here,” he said. Despite the cat’s dirty look, he was most definitely grateful to Peaches for the distraction.

  He’d come within inches of baring his soul. Telling Pam everything: his crazy college escapades, his final acceptance of a higher calling, and the devastating consequences of his failure with Jenny Buckner. All his futile efforts to get Jenny to leave her animal of a husband, go to a woman’s shelter, anywhere safe. His arrogant mistake that had cost her her life. And no longer being able to deny the truth, he had no business trying to fill his father’s shoes.

  But he had no business unloading his burdens on Pam, either. She had enough troubles to deal with. Leaving the church, probably leaving Hope’s Corner, and making a new life for himself was something for him to do—alone. Pushing away from the table, he stood. “I’d better be going.”

  “Oh. Yes. Well. I guess it is getting late.”

  For just a second he thought he saw disappointment in her eyes as she lifted Peaches from her lap and placed the kitty on the floor. He shouldn’t let his imagination get the better of him. Whatever she felt, it certainly had nothing to do with his leaving.

  Pam pushed away from the table and lifted from her sea
t. Her skirt rose slightly, exposing just enough shapely white thigh to send his libido soaring again.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered in a rush. “I really need to go.”

  Door closed behind him, standing on Pam’s porch, Jeff closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. What was happening to him tonight?

  Pam wasn’t sure how long she’d stood at the window. She’d watched Jeff walk back to his parent’s house, and was still looking through the glass when he came out, got into his car, and drove off.

  “I hadn’t realized how much I missed having someone answer me when I talk.” Her fingers loosened the firm grip they held on the edge of the curtains. Slowly she backed away, finally turning toward the kitchen. “I never realized how quiet this house is at night.”

  Standing over the sink, she rinsed off the dirty pie plates and noticed Etta working across the way in her own kitchen. “They have a really nice family. Don’t you think?” Her hold on the last dirty dish tightened painfully.

  The silent stillness of the room surrounded her. She was sure, if she’d dropped the proverbial pin, she could have heard it bounce off the floor.

  There would be no reply to her question. No conversation. Travis wouldn’t, couldn’t, answer her. All her incessant chatter would never break the silence. She was alone. All alone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Yes, Mrs. Cahill.” Jeff moved the phone to his other ear. “I’m glad you see it that way… Yes, I think a ladies’ luncheon is a wonderful idea.” He smiled into the phone hoping he didn’t sound as exasperated as he felt.

  His sister had called first thing that morning, supposedly to talk about plans for their mother’s birthday more than a month away, but instead spent more than twenty minutes carrying on about what a delightful dinner guest Pam had been.

  Then his sister-in-law had phoned him to sing Pam’s praises and inquire if he thought she might seriously consider babysitting. The question was absurd. His mother would be cold in the grave before she’d let anyone else babysit her grandbabies, and Terri knew it as well as he did.

  At least Theresa Cahill had taken to the idea of a Thank-You Committee like a starving cat to caviar. If she’d garnered any romantic notions about him and Pam after Thursday’s dinner, she was perfectly happy to set them aside for the title of committee chair. He didn’t want to think what would happen to the rumor mill if the woman got wind of his mother inviting Pam to Sunday supper.

  When Theresa Cahill finally ran out of steam and let him hang up, he was sorely tempted to take his phone off the hook and turn off his cell. But the last thing he needed was for someone to have an emergency and not be able to find the acting pastor. No, he’d stay home today, keep busy. By tomorrow when he had to return to his office, most of the dust from the storm of gossip would have settled, and everyone would have forgotten his dinner with Pam at the café. And with the grace of God, Sunday supper with his family wouldn’t become the next fodder for the town gossips.

  Now sitting on the sofa, matching clean socks, he had a different problem to sort out. He didn’t want to forget about either dinner with Pam. What he wanted was to see her smile, watch her play with his niece, hear her voice, listen to her tell him some silly story about her mom’s bad cooking, or her sister’s crazy boyfriends.

  She’d be at the church office alone today. He wondered if she was okay, or had she also been on the receiving end of concerned parishioners’ friendly comments? He certainly didn’t want her to retreat into her shell because of local gossip. Maybe he should call and check in with her? Or maybe not. Yesterday she’d seemed untouched by the gossip.

  While still battling with himself, the phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID, not sure he was recharged enough to deal with more helpful comments. The relief, then the rush of warmth, that washed over him when he read the church name on his phone stopped him cold. What was happening to him? He couldn’t do this. This was no time in his life to fall for a woman. Especially this woman. As soon as his father was back to work, Jeff’s world would be turned upside down. Leaving the church to start over with a new career would be hard enough. The responsibility of a wife was the last thing he needed.

  He froze with the telephone in hand, hanging in midair. Wife? Where the hell had that come from?

  “Pastor?” A muffled sound wafted toward him.

  He stared wide-eyed at the receiver as though it were some newfangled discovery.

  “Hello?” A soft voice laced with confusion filled the air. “Jeff? Are you there?”

  “Sorry, yes.” He had to get a grip. He didn’t know when he’d gone from thinking of her as a temporary replacement for Ellen to a potential wife, but he needed to put it out of his mind.

  “Sandra Quinn called. She said to tell you the appointment for Mrs. Perkins is at eleven this morning.”

  “Right. Good to know.”

  “She seemed to hedge a bit. I’m not sure, but I think she was hoping you might want to go with them.”

  “Uh, yes, that might be a good idea. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Anytime.” Pam hesitated a moment. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Wrong? No. Why do you ask?” Yes, something was wrong. A simple telephone conversation relaying a phone message had his heart pounding at twice its normal rate.

  “You sound funny.”

  He took a deep calming breath. “I’m fine. But I’d better call Sandra, and, Pam…”

  “Yes?”

  “Anything else happening over there?”

  “No. Just another Monday. Not much happens around here on the pastor’s day off.”

  “Good.” Better than good. He didn’t want her upset by some well-meaning parishioner.

  “Also, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have lunch with Miss Abigail today. Is that all right with you?”

  “Yes, yes, of course it is. She’s a great lady, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  He could hear the smile in Pam’s voice. “Take all the time you want. Like you said, it’s a slow Monday.”

  “I can’t take too long. The copy machine is on the fritz again, and Fred said he could probably squeeze me in between two and three o’clock.”

  “If the fund-raising goes well, maybe we can spring for a new copy machine. In the meantime, tell Miss Abbie I’ll see her Thursday.” He’d barely had time to let go of the handset when the phone rang again. “Hello.”

  “How’s my favorite up-and-coming pastor?” The sound of his mother’s voice did little to help his mood.

  “Morning, Ma.”

  “Did you sleep well, dear?”

  Perfectly fine once he'd stopped tossing and turning, trying not to think about how long it had been since he’d really been with a woman. “Like a baby.”

  “Good. I’m glad you didn’t let John Haskell’s phone call lose you any sleep.”

  He could honestly report he hadn’t once thought of the president of the church board of directors all night. “Nope.”

  “Oh, I got some wonderful news this morning. You remember Carol Ann’s friend Margie?”

  “Works over at the Shop and Save?”

  “That’s the one. Well, you know she and her husband have been trying for years to have a baby.”

  “No.” He didn’t like the sound of this. “I didn’t.”

  “Well, they have. She’s had a dickens of a time of it. But you can’t really be surprised. Infertility is a growing problem in this country with everyone waiting till they’re older to start a family. Waiting till you’re in your thirties before conceiving simply isn’t part of God’s plan.”

  “Maybe so, but what did you want to tell me about Carol Ann’s friend?”

  “Oh. She’s pregnant. She did those fertility treatments and multiple births was a real concern, but it looks like she’s carrying only one little baby.”

  “That is wonderful news, Ma. I’ll make sure to send them a little note of congratulations on behalf of the church.”

  “
There’s nothing like bringing a baby into the world.”

  Here it comes.

  “Your own flesh and blood. A little person who depends solely on you. Pammy Sue did really well with Emily yesterday, don’t ya think?”

  “Ma.”

  “There’s something so gentle about her. I just knew she’d be good with children. She should have a passel of her own. And she’s not getting any younger. I mean, look at poor Margie.”

  “Ma. I have to get back to the fund-raising report.” There was no way he was getting into a conversation about families, babies and Pam with his mother.

  “Just this past Saturday morning all the ladies in my bridge club agreed you and Pam make a lovely couple. You know I love you, Jeff, but you’re not getting any younger either.”

  “I love you too, Ma. But I really need to get going.”

  After disconnecting the call and staring at the phone for a full five minutes, Jeff knew what he had to do. The gossip about him and Pam had to stop. Flipping through the new church directory, he found Sandra’s number.

  “My, that was a hot summer.” Ninety-seven-year-old Abigail Clarke fanned herself at the memories. “I thought, if I drank one more glass of Haddie’s lemonade, I’d turn into a lemon.”

  “I can’t imagine what it must have been like without air-conditioning.” Pam’s throat was parched from just listening to Miss Abigail talk about the heat wave of 1939. She couldn’t fathom surviving a hot Texas summer unable to don a pair of shorts and a cool T-shirt with only a few fans and Haddie’s lemonade to ease the misery.

  “Oh, it was more than the weather that had me overheated.” The grin that swept across Miss Abigail’s face was bright enough to light up all of East Texas. “That’s the summer I met my Edgar. It was scandalous.” The older woman rolled her eyes heavenward, and her shoulders shifted with glee. “Me being an old maid and all. He was so handsome in his uniform. I was smitten the moment I laid eyes on him.”

  Miss Abigail stared silently out the window. Her gaze focused on some unknown point on the other side of the tinted window. Then her expression softened, replaced by the sweet reflection of a woman in love.