God Bless the Broken Road

by Jennifer Dornbush

  “Those are missing brothers and sisters. Love calls us to bring them home.”

  Ahead of him, Cody sees Karena and Bridgette nodding to the pastor’s words in tandem. Hannah has her arm around Bree. Seriously, does the kid not have a mom or dad? But who else would force her to go to church?

  “They need to know that God is not done with them. That He has not abandoned them. God wants them to come back to Him.”

  To do what? Sit in a boring old church?

  “And if they are willing to turn to Him with just the tiniest seed of faith, He will show them that nothing is impossible.”

  Can God help me go fast and win races? ’Cause that’s the impossible task I’m facing right now.

  Pastor Williams scans the congregation, landing on Cody again. Cody tries to dodge his look.

  “Today we find ourselves standing at the precipice of a defining time for our faith and our nation. Each and every one of you needs to put God’s love into action, planting that seed of faith.”

  I have faith that Gibbs is going to get me back on the circuit. That’s where I’m planting my trust.

  “Who can you pray for today? Right now. Who can you invite back into the fold? Who needs your help and your love today? Who needs the peace and hope that only God can provide?”

  The room is so quiet that Cody barely dares exhale. While he’s trying to breathe shallowly, his stomach belts out a loud growl. Again. And draws a quick glance and a little giggle from Bree.

  “Sorry,” he mouths, pointing at his belly and shrugging. Bree smiles and hands him a hard candy from her tote bag.

  “Thanks!” Cody mouths again, and pops the candy into his mouth.

  The pastor steps back behind the pulpit as the choir files up to the front.

  Okay, Joe. I hear you. Part one of your plan worked. I wasn’t exactly dazzled, but I didn’t fall asleep. And, Joe, I’m puttin’ my time in here, but you’d better show me something shiny on the track.

  chapter eight

  Director of Youth Outreach

  AFTER THE SERVICE, Cody follows Joe down the basement hallway of the church. “Is this where they serve the punch and cookies?”

  “So you have been to church before.” Joe grins. “In the all-purpose room. But first, there are a few little folks I want you to meet.” Joe and Cody slip into the back of a Sunday school classroom, where a dozen squirmy kids are seated at a round table in deep concentration as they paint four-inch terra-cotta pots. Cody sees Bree slathering on pink tempera paint.

  Cody recognizes Hannah at the front of the classroom. Behind her there’s a whiteboard with handwritten words scribed in black marker:

  If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.

  That sounds vaguely familiar. Like I learned that verse sometime during my kid life.

  The smell of the paint and the musty basement carpet take Cody right back to his Sunday school days. He was probably about Bree’s age when he “accepted Jesus into his heart.” His teacher had congratulated him on making the most important decision of his life. She said his whole life would be different from then on. Funny thing. She was right. His life became very different. His parents divorced. He had to move cities with his mom and change schools. His grades went down. He started to skip school and hang out at the racetrack. Well, eventually that did turn out to be for the better. So, who knows? Maybe the whole Jesus thing did work. Or maybe he had just stumbled into a way to survive on his own.

  “What are we doing in here, Joe?”

  “Hold your horses.” Joe shushes him with a pursed look.

  “David, why don’t you read the verse for the day?” Hannah says to a boy with a cropped haircut and black-rimmed glasses who’s filling his pot with loose soil.

  “B-b-but my s-s-stutter . . .”

  “It’s okay, we don’t mind,” Bree tells him.

  “Go ahead, David. Just take your time,” says Hannah.

  David presses his index finger to where the verse starts on the page. “ ‘Truly I t-t-tell you. If you have faith as s-s-s-small as a mustard s-s-s-seed, you can s-say to this mount-t-t-tain, ‘M-move from here to there,’ and it will m-m-move. N-n-nothing will b-b-b-be impossible for you.’ ” He has a relieved look on his face as he finishes.

  “Excellent job, David. Thank you,” says Hannah.

  The students go back to work on their pots. Hannah holds something up between two pinched fingers.

  “Can anyone see what I’m holding?”

  The kids look up and shake their heads. Hannah unfolds her hand, and Cody finds himself craning his neck to get a glimpse of her palm as she shows each child what she has.

  “This is a mustard seed. It comes from one of the biggest, strongest trees in the world. A mustard tree! But look how tiny it is at the beginning. That’s a pretty powerful seed, huh?”

  Scattered nods.

  Mustard comes from that little thing? Huh, interesting.

  “So what Jesus was saying in Matthew seventeen, verse twenty, is that even if our faith is small, like this seed, it can move mountains.”

  That sounds a little far-fetched. Why are Sunday school teachers always bringing up crazy ideas like this and expecting vulnerable little kids to make sense of them?

  “A mountain is like a problem that you have in your life,” says Hannah.

  I’m sensing a theme here today. Coincidence? Thinly veiled, Joe.

  “All you need to do is ask God to help you with that problem. And believe that He will.”

  Bree looks up. “Can He help my mom, too?”

  “He sure can, Bree.” Hannah begins passing out the seeds. “Even the tiniest bit of faith can make a difference in the lives of your family and friends. Because your faith can lead others to God.”

  The kids carefully tuck their seeds into the soil. Hannah comes around with a watering can and soaks each seed.

  “Hannah, that was a beautiful lesson,” says Joe. “Can I make a quick announcement?”

  “Of course, Joe.” Hannah motions him to the front of the room. “Let’s all say good morning to Uncle Joe.”

  “Good morning, Uncle Joe!” the kids belt out.

  Uncle Joe? Are you kidding me?

  “Good morning, everyone. I want you to meet Mr. Cody Jackson.”

  “Let’s give him a warm welcome,” says Hannah.

  They’d better not start calling me—

  “Good morning, Uncle Cody!” the kids yell at the top of their lungs.

  “Hey, kids,” Cody returns in a lilting tone.

  “Uncle Cody’s the new director of our youth outreach program,” says Joe.

  “The what?” Cody turns to Joe, his jaw dropping.

  “And his first project will be helping to build go-karts for the Clarksville Community Church go-kart derby,” Joe announces.

  The kids break into cheers.

  “He’ll be giving test drives in the parking lot after Sunday school.”

  “Sounds like fun, huh, guys?” Hannah says.

  “Yeah!”

  “Let’s thank them.”

  A round of “Thanks, Uncle Joe! Thanks, Uncle Cody!”

  Cody gives the kids a halfhearted wave and exits the room trailing behind Joe. “Joe. I don’t know the first thing about go-karts. Or kids. This is a recipe for disaster.”

  Joe cuts into the all-purpose room. “You still want those cookies?”

  “And when am I supposed to train? Huh? I didn’t come to Clarksville to build go-karts!”

  Joe points Cody to the cookie table at the center of the all-purpose room. “They’re homemade. Try the chocolate-chip peanut butter before they’re all gone.” Joe spies a friend waving to him from a table at the edge of the room, leaving Cody abandoned.

  He stands there for a second, trying to hold his own. Then he nervously heads to the cookie table. There’s one chocolate-chip peanut butter left. Should he ta
ke the last one? Is that polite? It looks all soft and gooey in the middle. Just a little undercooked. He likes them that way.

  “Go ahead. It’s all yours,” a female voice coos behind him.

  Cody turns to find a gaggle of eligible women descending on their prey.

  chapter nine

  An Offer She Can Refuse

  PATTI STEPS INTO Rosie’s Diner and feels a pleasant nostalgia. She spies Rosie at a table, taking an order, and notes that she looks exactly the way she did twenty years ago when she gave Patti a job. Patti’s husband had run out on her and Darren, and she needed to get back on her feet. Rosie’s big heart and successful diner had saved Patti during those first few years when she was learning how to be a single parent. Patti waitressed for Rosie until her MyWay independent beauty business was earning enough to keep her afloat. Rosie was also her first MyWay customer. She had purchased the entire skin-care collection and let Patti host beauty parties at the diner on her days off. Rosie had long ago stopped buying beauty products, but Patti periodically gifted Rosie with her favorite creams and makeup. A small token of her gratitude for her help during those lean years.

  “How many in your party today, ma’am?” the hostess asks, flying up to the front and grabbing a stack of menus.

  “Oh, just me.”

  The hostess leads Patti to a two-top and sets down a plastic menu. “Strawberry pancakes and the Reuben sandwich are on special today. Coffee?”

  “Yes. Just coffee, please.” The hostess nods and heads to the kitchen. Rosie swings by with an armload of dirty dishes.

  “Patti Hill. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” She leans in and lops a free arm around Patti’s shoulder. Patti leans in for the hug. “You gotta come around here more. I miss you, hon.”

  “Rosie. I miss you, too. Place looks the same.”

  “And so do you. Not a year older than when you worked here. Those beauty products really work, don’t they?”

  Patti reaches into her bag and hands Rosie a small MyWay box. “It’s a new eye shadow cream called Candied Peaches. Part of our spring line. I think it’ll look beautiful with your skin tone.”

  Rosie looks at the box and slips it into her apron pocket. “You know I love these little treasures. Thank you. So what can I get you to eat?”

  “Nothing. Just came from brunch with the ladies.” Patti scans the diner. “Actually, I came to see Amber.”

  “Well, sure, hon. She’s working the back section today, but I’ll send her out.”

  “Is she working out for you?”

  “For the most part. She’s a little distracted sometimes, but she’s a hard worker. Never misses a shift.”

  “I’m worried she’s having trouble making ends meet.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. She doesn’t share that stuff with me, and I’m not one to pry.”

  “Now, we both know that’s not true,” jokes Patti.

  “I suppose I walked right into that one. Look, you and Amber are different people. But you’ve been in similar situations, and you know these things take time.”

  “She doesn’t have the same drive that I did.”

  “Amber’s been wounded differently. But give her a chance. She’ll find her way.” Rosie’s wise smile sends Patti a small measure of reassurance. “How about you? How have you been?”

  “I’m okay. Sorry I haven’t been in more. It’s been . . .” A small lump in her throat stops her.

  “Aw, hon. Don’t you fret about it. I knew you’d be back when you were ready.” Rosie pats her shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

  Patti glances over at a picture of Darren in his 101st Airborne cap that hangs behind the counter next to a couple of other young, local faces in uniform.

  “It’s good to see you.” Patti manages a small smile.

  “Look, I’m gonna get you a piece of lemon meringue on the house and tell Amber you’re here.” Rosie gives her a wink, and Patti feels a small degree better.

  “Thank you, Rosie. I’d like that.”

  Patti’s nerves twitch, and she distracts herself by adding another layer of gloss to her already expertly painted lips. When she looks up from her pocket mirror, Amber is standing there with a coffeepot.

  “Hi, Patti. You wanted coffee?”

  “Yes. Please.” Amber turns the coffee mug over, and the hot liquid splashes onto the saucer. “It’s nice to see you, Amber.” She tries to be chipper, but her tone conveys the chip on her shoulder. “A shame I have to come all the way down here to do it.”

  “Anything to eat?”

  Patti quickly assesses how to melt through Amber’s icy wall.

  “Rosie’s bringing me a piece of pie.” Patti seals her lip gloss into her sleek gray MyWay makeup bag. “So, how are you?”

  “I’m doing fine.” Amber stands there, pot at her hip. “Cream and sugar?”

  “No, black. Thanks.”

  “I’ve got a ton of tables in back, so if there’s nothing else . . .”

  Patti dives in. “I guess I’m just surprised to find you working today.”

  “Why?”

  “Amber, it’s just . . . tomorrow of all days. I thought maybe . . . we could . . .”

  “It’s the end of my shift, and I’ve got a lot to catch up on.” Amber’s jaw sets. “Rosie needs me.”

  “Have you taken Bree to visit Darren’s grave?”

  Amber pauses, her cheeks flushing. Patti has hit a nerve.

  “If she asks, I’ll take her,” Amber says.

  “She’s nine. You have to do these things for her. You set the tone.”

  “Patti, I’m not going to do something that might upset her.”

  “It doesn’t have to be an upsetting moment.” Patti reels it in, wanting to keep Amber engaged. “So, how is Bree doing?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Is she at home with a sitter?”

  “No, she’s at church.”

  “I see.” Patti puts on a pleasant smile. “You know, I’d really like to spend more time with my granddaughter. I’d be happy to watch her sometimes . . . when you work.”

  “She likes going to Sunday school. And after that, Hannah watches her.”

  “Oh, I see.” Patti drops the saleswoman attempt as frustration takes over. “It just seems to me that Bree could benefit from a more stable home environment.”

  “And that’s what I’m giving her.” As Amber raises her voice, nearby diners start to stare. Patti smiles back to dissuade their looks.

  “By working seven days a week?” Patti lowers her tone.

  “I don’t really have a choice right now.”

  “It seems to me that with Darren’s death gratuity payment, you shouldn’t have to work so much.”

  Rosie swings by with a piece of lemon meringue and sets it in front of Patti.

  “Everything okay here?” Patti catches Rosie’s concerned look.

  “This looks delicious, Rosie,” says Patti. “Thanks for the pie.”

  “Amber, I’ll check on your tables for ya,” Rosie says, and disappears before Amber can protest.

  “Amber, have you mismanaged the gratuity money?” Patti gets right to the point.

  “You don’t have any faith in me. Never have.” Amber starts to turn.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to pick a fight.” Patti hands Amber a small MyWay cosmetics box. “I came to make you an offer.”

  Amber opens it and pulls out the products. Patti doesn’t like the strange look that follows.

  “Eye shadow and lip gloss?”

  “It’s more than that. I want to help you set up your own MyWay franchise.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I think you’d make a great MyWay beauty consultant.” Amber’s dumbfounded expression lingers, making Patti uncomfortable. “You can make stable money as an independent consultant. You’ll be able to quit working here and stay home with Bree when she needs you.”

  “That may have worked for you, but I’m not inter
ested.”

  Amber puts the products back into the box and slides it back to Patti.

  “Then what’s your long-term plan, Amber? Because I sure hope it doesn’t include slinging burgers and fries for Rosie for the next twenty years.” Patti meant no ill will against Rosie and all she had done for her, but Rosie was a businesswoman, and she had turned Patti into one, too. Patti could do the same for Amber. If she would just let her.

  “I’ve got things under control,” Amber says.

  “It doesn’t appear so. You look haggard and run-down. Where does Bree fit into all this?” Patti is beyond treading carefully. She swallows, trying hard not to unleash her full anger.

  “We may have our differences, but I think we can agree that Bree is the most important thing in the world to both of us.”

  Amber seems unaffected as she stares at Patti, who shoves the cosmetics back into Amber’s hands as she rises from the table.

  “Do yourself and your daughter a favor. Think a little harder about your future.” Patti drops a couple of dollars on the table. “Someday you’ll thank me.”

  Patti walks briskly out, leaving the pie as she catches Rosie’s disapproving eye. She wants to wipe that sanctimonious look right off Rosie’s brow. Sometimes it takes a little tough love.

  Rosie never had to prod Patti like this. Patti needed no goading when it was time to step it up for Darren’s best interests. Darren had always come first. And MyWay beauty consulting was Darren’s ticket to the college education Patti never had. And then came Amber. Senior year of high school. Three months after graduation, a wedding. And that following June, beautiful Bree. Two months later, Darren enlisted in order to support them.

  Amber had messed up Patti’s plans for Darren once; and now she was doing it again with her only grandbaby.

  Patti storms across the parking lot to her car. She needs the comfort of her couch. From there she will find a way around this. There’s always a way. She just needed to figure it out.

  chapter ten

  Racing for Glory

  CODY FOLLOWS JOE across the church parking lot to Joe’s old Ford pickup.

  “So are we doing some track time this afternoon or what?” Cody reaches for the passenger-side door.