Love's Prayer (The First Street Church Romances Book 1)

by Melissa Storm

  “You were a tough act to follow, but at least I didn’t get booed off the stage. We missed you after you left. You didn’t have to leave so soon, but it was a really nice thing you did for Susan.”

  “It was the least I could do, seeing as I’m the one who got her all riled up to begin with. Besides, I was happy to be able to help.”

  “Oh, speaking of music and performances and happy…” Elise gave an over-the-top smile as if exulting in her own ostentatiousness. “The concert’s tomorrow. Are you going to be able to make it? Pretty much the whole town is going to be there, and I’d love to introduce you around. And, not to brag or anything, but the youth group events are always the most fun. We have a few bands coming from out of town to perform, plus some of our local kids will be taking the stage as well. In a word, awesome. It’s going to be awesome, and I want to spend more time with you too. So go ahead, tell me you’ll come.”

  “Okay, okay.” Summer couldn’t help but laugh—something she did often around Elise. “Can I bring a friend with me? I happen to have a new friend who is incredibly passionate about music.”

  Elise scrunched up her nose. “Do you mean Susan?”

  Summer nodded. “Well, yeah, and her son, Ben. If everyone’s going to be there, then they shouldn’t miss it either, right?”

  “If you can get them to come, then you’ll have accomplished something I’ve never been able to. I like Ben. In fact, he was my first boyfriend back in high school, and I was in Mrs. Davis’s fourth grade class a million years ago. But they’ve both changed so much, since… I mean—”

  “It’s okay,” Summer broke in. “He told me what happened with Stephen.”

  “Oh, good. I didn’t want to be the one to say it. I’m not a huge fan of gossip. No offense to your Aunt Iris! It’s just that when gossip works its way through my youth group, drama always inevitably follows. Teenagers, right?”

  They both laughed, but the previous lightness had drained from the room.

  “So you and Ben were an item, huh?” Summer asked at last. If the situation was awkward already, she may as well learn a thing or two.

  Elise nodded and winked in a gesture that wasn’t unlike a rap star. “Jealous?”

  “What? No, just curious.” Summer walked over to the card carousel in an effort to look nonchalant.

  Elise joined her and began thumbing through the section with all the funny kitten photos.

  “So…you and Ben?”

  “Ancient history.” Elise plucked a card from the stand, opened it, then laughed when the noisemaker inside let out a caterwauling meow. She closed the card again and fixed her gaze firmly on Summer. “You and Ben?”

  Summer turned as red as whichever flowers were red. Other than roses, she honestly didn’t know. All she knew was that waves of heat crashed into her cheeks, and her heart fluttered in her chest. “I don’t actually know,” she admitted. Change of topic, change of topic! She desperately searched her mind until she came up with the perfect redirect.

  “Hey,” she said, traipsing back over to the main counter and placing a hand on the cooler door. “How are you with flowers? Come help me make an arrangement for Susan. She deserves to have something pretty in her life. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “Oh, man,” Elise teased. “You’ve got it bad. So, so bad.”

  Summer opened her mouth to argue, but what was the point in denying it? She did like Ben, perhaps too much for just a summer crush. Her feelings were bound to fade eventually, weren’t they? She didn’t know if they would, and she also didn’t know if she wanted them to.

  For now at least she could focus on making a beautiful—or at least as close to beautiful as she was capable of—bouquet. And then what?

  Chapter 7

  On Friday afternoon, Ben went straight to the library after finishing his shift at the Sweet Grove market. He’d finished all his work quickly that day, so Maisie had offered to let him to leave an hour early without forfeiting any pay. Normally, he’d refuse and find some other task to keep himself busy, but on this day he decided to say yes. Even Maisie seemed surprised when he hung up his product scanner and clocked out for the day.

  And now that he found himself in the familiar company of Sally and all her many books, he decided to study up on the history of psychology rather than continuing Russian Tsarist history. Naturally, he avoided Freud, having no desire to blame all his shortcomings on his mother any more than he already did.

  Instead, he began reading about Maslow and the hierarchy of needs. He liked that the hierarchy was represented by a pyramid. He did not like that he had only two-ish blocks accounted for, which wasn’t very good, considering most people had at least three. He got hung up on the whole “love and belonging” level of Maslow’s motivational model. Did that mean he’d be happier if he put his discomfort aside and tried harder to form actual friendships? The book cited friends, sports, clubs, church, even gangs as good ways of getting his needs met in this level—all pretty obvious, really. It also referenced, umm, romantic relationships. Well, if that’s what the book wanted, who was he to disagree?

  Besides, once he mastered that block, he could move on to esteem and finally self-actualization. If he did that, he would be at the top of the pyramid; he’d become the highest, best version of himself—the version Summer deserved.

  Then again, Maslow’s theories dated back to World War II and had since been called into question. Still, Ben liked the idea of being able to take measured steps toward self-improvement. What if it really were that easy? What if he could take a good, long look at each area of his life, intentionally add things back in—things he’d once had before Stephen ripped his family apart? What if doing this would mean he could finally make something of himself, pursue his dreams, become a man worthy of a woman like Summer?

  She’d had her own fair share of troubles. Sure, she hadn’t divulged much, but he knew enough to see that Summer had triumphed over her hardships—whether or not she believed she had. If Summer could do it, then couldn’t he with a little extra knowledge and encouragement?

  According to Maslow, he could start his road to recovery by simply making a friend or two. That worked, seeing as he definitely didn’t have the time or the money to seek out a therapist. Even if he did have that kind of spare cash just lying around, he’s see to it that his mother got help first.

  Ahh, money. It always came back to money. Not having enough of it, wanting more of it, that kind of thing.

  “How’s it going today, Ben?” Sally strode through the stacks then took a seat across from him at the small table.

  “Good, good. I’m just reading up on Abraham Maslow. Are you familiar with him?”

  “I remember him from my Intro to Psychology course. The Humanist school of thought, am I right?”

  “Exactly. Man, you are like a sponge, Sally. How is it that you know everything about everything?”

  A self-satisfied grin spread across her face. “I read a lot. Just like you,” she pointed out.

  He put a piece of notebook paper in the old psychology textbook to hold his spot, and shut it. “How has your day been so far?”

  “My day?” she gasped. “You never ask me about my day. What’s gotten into you, Ben?”

  “I don’t know,” he lied, not yet ready to divulge the seriousness of his crush on Summer. “But I like it.”

  “If it’s that book, then I think I’ll borrow it when you’re done.”

  “Here, take it now.” He nudged it across the table, and Sally caught it before it could slide off. “I’m going to go grab a book on Jung to see what he has to say about the human brain.”

  Sally stood, hugging the book to her chest as if it were a precious child and not a bunch of outdated words and theories. “Well, thanks. Hey, do you maybe want to talk about it when I’m done? Kind of like an impromptu book club?”

  “Sounds good. Thanks, Sally.” Ben stood too and started back toward the small-town library’s tiny psychology section. He’d have all these b
ooks read in no time, especially if he checked some out and took them home with him.

  “Wait. Ben?” Sally called after him.

  “Yeah?” He turned to study her. She was really quite pretty with her dark hair and fair skin, and she’d always been so nice to him. If he weren’t completely enamored of Summer, then maybe one day he could have found love with Sally. It would have been easy to make a life with her, to learn new things side by side, to have somebody to kiss and hold. A relationship with Sally would be built on pragmatism, shared interests, but not passion.

  And Ben didn’t want a slow burn kind of romance. He loved the fireworks he saw whenever he so much as thought of breezy, beautiful Summer.

  “Whatever has you feeling like this,” Sally continued. “Make sure you don’t let it go. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this upbeat. And, well, I really like it. You have such a nice smile. Try to show it more often.”

  Ben blushed. “I will, thank you.”

  Sally hoisted the book in the air. “Off to go woman the front desk. Have a good night, Ben.”

  “Good night, Sally.” Ben smiled to himself as he turned back toward the shelves and ran his thumb over a line of books that were crammed tightly together on the lowest shelf.

  “Hi, Ben.” A voice came from above him. Not Sally’s, but…

  “Summer! Hi!” He shot to his feet, his search for the new book quickly forgotten.

  She gave him a hug then quickly pulled away. “Maisie told me I might find you here, and look. She was right. Thanks for everything last night. It helped to talk things out.”

  “Thank you for taking care of my mom. You don’t even know her, but you still wanted to help. I love that about you.”

  She blushed at the word love, and Ben realized too late what he’d said. Love already? Infatuation maybe, but surely not love. But he’d already said it. If he took it back now, then that would just call more attention to his little Freudian slip. Darn, he hadn’t managed to escape the old mother-lover, after all.

  “Um, thank you.” Summer tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. “I actually have a request for you, if you don’t mind.”

  “No, go ahead.”

  “Would you please, umm… Well, would you mind inviting me over to your place for dinner?”

  “I would… what?”

  “I want to make dinner for you and your mom and get to know you both better. Would that be okay?”

  “Yes, of course. That would be awesome.”

  “So you’ll invite me?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said.

  Summer tapped her foot as she waited for him to catch up.

  “Oh, would you like to come over to my house for dinner tonight?”

  She blushed again. “Yes, please! I have everything just about ready, I just needed the invite first. Would it be okay if I came by at six?”

  “Yeah, that would be awesome,” he said again. Man, he really needed to learn some new words. Maybe when he was done with psychology he could read the dictionary.

  “Well, great. Thank you. I’ll see you then.” Summer tucked her hair behind her ears again, then bobbed off toward the exit, leaving Ben to contemplate whether this was a date—and whether he’d asked her on it, or she’d asked him.

  He’d said yes. Of course he’d said yes. Summer hadn’t expected to be turned down, but she also hadn’t expected to feel butterfly wings beat in her chest the moment Ben smiled and asked her to dinner as she’d requested.

  Okay, so maybe she had a bit of a crush. That much had been obvious the second she’d received the news of his former relationship with Elise. Oh, was she jealous! But that had been years ago, and besides, Summer was in no place to start something new. As the saying went, she was just passing through, just in Sweet Grove for a season. Before anyone knew it, the leaves would be turning orange and she would be driving off into the sunset.

  At least she hoped it would go that way. More and more it looked as though she’d end up working at a temp agency until she could finally, actually, make up her mind about what she wanted to do with her life. But the more she dilly-dallied about making the momentous decision, the more immobilized with fear she became. What if she chose wrong?

  If she refused to choose then at least some hope would remain, right?

  No.

  That was ridiculous. Utter nonsense.

  Tonight she could enjoy her time with Ben and Susan, and tomorrow she could resume her soul searching—or rather job searching. Well, she would do something productive. She didn’t have much choice.

  But that would come tomorrow. Tonight she had to prepare dinner, and if she didn’t pay attention to her cooking, she would likely burn the bisque or over-toss the salad, provided such a thing were actually possible.

  Good food could do wonders for the mind and body. Some people swore a nice slice of chocolate cake or a homemade batch of mac and cheese could brighten even the gloomiest of days, but Summer believed that healthier was always better when it came to food. Eating green, leafy things made her feel good on the inside and glow on the outside, and she wanted to share that with Susan. And, okay, Ben too.

  Getting sober was no easy task, and she wanted to do her part to help Susan be successful. Partially because she needed to do something useful to feel halfway good about herself, and partly for Ben. She had a crush, after all, and if she helped him save his mother, then maybe she’d always have a bit of his heart—even after she had long since left Sweet Grove.

  She missed the healthy, yummy, crunchy foods of SoCal. Food was so different here in Texas, and her stomach hadn’t quite made peace with that yet. She’d never been much of a cook, but she wanted to try to make something nice to bring over to the Davises’ that night.

  After all, she was the one who had invited herself. Now it was time to make the best possible impression with her cooking, her conversation, her looks—all of it.

  As she slipped into her favorite summer dress and a pair of strappy sandals, she reminded herself over and over again that she was there to help, not to flirt. But still… she wasn’t sure she actually believed it.

  Chapter 8

  This time, when a soft knock sounded on Ben’s front door, he was prepared. Still, as soon as he opened the door, the sight of Summer waiting there in a soft spring dress sent shivers straight through him. He noted a delicate chain around her neck with a heart-shaped locket that fell just beneath her collarbone and briefly wondered whose pictures might be inside.

  “Hi,” she said with a sweet smile and a quick bashful duck of her head.

  “Hi.”

  Had she gotten dressed up for this evening, or did she always put such pride into her appearance? Ben ran his palms through his hair, then motioned for their guest to come inside. As soon as he and Summer had made their plans that afternoon, he’d rushed home to clean the house up as much as possible, but he’d failed to take such efforts on his own appearance. A mistake, he now realized.

  “I hope you like what I made for dinner. It’s a little different, but I figured not much could surprise you, seeing that you work in the grocery store where I bought all the ingredients.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she talked. “Besides I think it will be good for Susan to have a fresh, organic meal. Good for you, too.”

  “I’m sure it’s awesome.” Darn, there was that word again. Yup, he’d definitely be hitting the dictionary section the next time he went to the library. “Here, let me take that from you,” he said. “Mom is just finishing setting the table. C’mon, I’ll show you in.”

  “Well, aren’t you a vision!” Susan set down the last of the silverware and came to give Summer a hug. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  “Flowers?” Ben couldn’t stop himself from asking. He also did his best to avoid calculating the last time his mother had hugged him so warmly. He’d be jealous if he didn't like Summer so much himself. Hey, whatever got her here worked just fine for him.

  Finally, Mom has fou
nd a way to be of use. Wait, how can I even think such a thing? I’m a bad, bad son.

  The women continued their banter, unaware of the dark thoughts running through Ben’s brain. “Oh, good, you got them!” Summer squealed.

  Everyone glanced over to the table where, in the center, a fat floral arrangement sat.

  “I remember you said you liked gardening and I figured they could be the final piece of my apology for the song.”

  Both women laughed, and Ben remained confused.

  Susan placed a hand on Summer’s shoulder, as if she needed the other woman to help her keep standing. “Oh, c’mon now. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about that. I was having a rough day.”

  “I understand. I’m not the best singer or florist for that matter, but I try my best to do whatever makes me happy.”

  “That’s a lesson we could both learn from you. Right, Ben?” Now she grabbed Ben and pulled him into her side. He hated when she did that.

  Ben nodded uncomfortably.

  “I hope this isn’t rude, but I’m starved. Mind if we plate up while we talk?” Even though the question was addressed to his mother, Summer shot a shy glance Ben’s way.

  He nodded again.

  “Ben, c’mon, help her out, would you?” Susan said, embarrassing Ben once again.

  Summer also turned red. “It’s okay, I’ve got it. It’s better I do it, so I can explain what everything is. You both take a seat.” Another shy glance toward Ben, a smile.

  He knew he should pay better attention to her explanations of what each dish entailed, but he quickly found himself lost in her smile, the soft cadence of her words, the gentle movements of her hands as she served up each dish. Soon his plate was full, and Summer took a seat across from him.

  “Now it’s time to dig in. As I said, the roasted fennel is my favorite.” She speared the vegetables with her fork and popped a big bite into her mouth.

  Hungry as he was that evening, Ben had to force himself to look away from Summer and onto his plate of brightly colored foods. He followed Summer’s example and started with the fennel. Was it bad that he’d spent years stocking such vegetables but had never actually tried them? Sure, they were only in season for a short while and the supply was always meager so as to make space for the other, more popular foods, but wow.