What a night. At first I’d thought I was going to lose my mind when I found out where Shane was taking me, but like some magic spell only he could weave, everything I was scared of became nothing. He made it all go away. I thought about what he’d said at dinner, and how it didn’t matter what happened in the past, and I set my sights on enjoying the present as much as possible.
And the present started with breakfast.
Once I’d rubbed all the sleep from my eyes and awkwardly twisted my feet into my fuzzy slippers, I followed the scent of food. When I arrived downstairs, Daddy was seated in front of an empty plate which was still stained with the remnants of maple syrup and he was finishing the last of his coffee. Mother was whisking pancake batter in a bowl and humming pleasantly to herself.
“Look who it is,” she called out in a sing-song way. “How was your night, Mary Katherine?”
“It was…good.” I shot her a perplexed look. “You certainly look like you had a good night, too.”
“Oh, I did, I did. Haven’t felt better in ages. I told ya’ll I’d lick this thing,” Momma said pridefully.
Father pulled off his glasses and set them down on top of his newspaper. “Don’t go sayin’ things like that now, Carol. I know you’re feelin’ better, and I’m glad, but my mind ain’t gon’ be at ease till that doctor says you got it licked.”
“Listen to your ol’ Daddy,” Mother said and loaded up a plate with three crisp strips of bacon. “He’s sceered I’ll jinx myself. Truth is, I’ve been hungry all the time since yesterday. Feel like a million bucks. Energy is just bustin’ outta me!”
I could hardly believe what I was seeing. She’d done a complete one-eighty in less than a day. “That’s great, Momma. Now, don’t you go getting down on yourself if it doesn’t last. You might want to take it easy just in case.”
She rolled her eyes at me, almost exactly like my sister often did. “Take it easy! You all jus’ worry about me too much. I’m fine. I’ve been fine, just a little under the weather, s’all.” She pulled up a chair and sat down next to my father, who was just getting finished buttoning up his shirt. “Ya’ll wait till you hear what that doctor gots to say after my next appointment. Miss Pauline says the whole church has been prayin’ for me all this time. By the grace of God, that’s the true medicine!”
“Speaking of which,” Daddy spoke up, “You goin’ with us today to service, Lil’ Bit?”
I shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I haven’t been in so long.”
“All the more reason. Pastor James was askin’ about you last week, and now that your leg’s not so bothersome no more, I thought you might want to come with us.”
“Alright,” I answered, and grabbed the last pancake from the counter. Mother hopped up immediately and began to ladle some more onto the skillet.
“So there’s some for your sister whenever she drags her lazy butt out of bed,” she explained quickly. “And if ya’ll want more, too, of course.”
I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen my mother with so much energy. The color had returned to her face, though, and I would’ve sworn she’d gained weight overnight. Maybe adding the new medicines had done it. Maybe it was the grace of God, like she said. Whatever it was, I hoped it would last.
Abby never did make it downstairs in time for church. I couldn’t say I was too surprised. She’d probably spent most of the night listening to some new boy-band’s music she’d picked up at the mall or talking to girlfriends about my date on her phone. If I’d done that when I was the same age, I’d have been woken up by Momma tugging me out of bed by the ear to stand, and sing, and pray, right along with most of the rest of town. My parents had definitely cooled the way they handled things like that since I’d left for college.
With Daddy driving and Momma sitting in her usual place in the front of the car, we rode the short few miles into town to church. The parking lot was about half-full and people in their freshly-pressed Sunday suits or fine dresses were making beelines from their cars to the big open doors of the sanctuary.
Ridgewater Baptist wasn’t the only church in Kirkland, not by a long shot, but it was the largest. It was constructed in the sixties and built up ever since. Most of the existing structure was replaced to expand and give more room for members and functions. Space for the fellowship hall used to be no more than a small room barely sizeable enough to hold a meeting with a dozen people. Now, it was an enormous area with an attached kitchen, where the church held everything from the men’s Sunday breakfast to huge wedding receptions and other gatherings. There was even a gym with a full-size basketball court on the backside of the property, and every Saturday they hosted church league games.
The outside was almost pure red brick, from the top of the front walls to the ground. White vinyl trim laced around the rooftop, which was a smoky, charcoal grey. There were two square bell towers jutting up from opposite sides, one with the original bell that had been placed in the church when it was built, and the other with a new system of speakers that played out the music from inside for all to hear. On the top was a traditional cross, just like most churches, however this one was outlined in what appeared to be gold and was easily large enough to be seen over the trees for a few miles in any direction. Only the pastor knew for sure how much it had cost.
I exited the car along with my parents and looked on at the big sign which had been wedged into the grass near the roadway. In blocky, changeable letters, the message of the week read for all motorists to see,
“Life is to prepare for us for greater life! The good news begins with Jesus!”
And then, below it;
“Sign up now for our bake sale at the Harvest Festival – November 20th.”
“Only a couple more weeks. It’s gonna be a big one this year, I’ll bet,” Momma said from beside me.
“I didn’t even know Kirkland was still doing a Harvest Festival. Didn’t they cancel the last one a few years ago?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm,” Momma intoned, and swung her heavy purse around on her shoulder. “That Mister Reid donated a heap of money to bring it back this year. S’ppose he’s doin’ all he can to paint a good picture for himself in light of all that’s been goin’ on as of late.”
“Ya’ll gon’ stand there and jibber-jabber all mornin’?” Daddy asked, and Momma shot him a disturbed look. He jerked his thumb towards the front steps, where a large, dark-skinned woman with an equally large, overly-elaborate hat was waving to us. “Miss Pauline is up there waitin’, and it looks like she’s about to have a fit.”
“She jus’ wants to talk gossip ‘fore church,” Momma said. “Reckon it must be something real juicy this time.”
“Well, you might as well get on with it, Carol. You know she ain’t gon’ give up till you do.”
Mother waved back in Miss Pauline’s direction and the woman finally put down her hand. “That lady is a saint in her own right. The things she does to help those in need. But Lord knows she sure does like to talk on about other folk’s affairs.”
“And you like listenin’,” Daddy said with a quick laugh.
We walked together across the lot and onto the concrete sidewalk leading up to the church. At the front door, mother was immediately accosted by Miss Pauline, who promptly dragged her off to the side and began to fill her in on whatever eavesdropped details she’d heard passed around over the last few days. Most of the time it was church-related bureaucracy, but occasionally she heard rumors of a cheating spouse or marital conflict, and that was the kind of thing she really seemed to live for. Whatever it was today, Miss Pauline was turning red in the face as she hurriedly dished to mother.
“C’mon Lil’ Bit and let’s find our seats. Who knows how long your Momma is gonna be out here listenin’ to real-life soap opera stories. If’n she ain’t inside the church by the time the bell rings, I’ll come out here and drag the both of ‘em in.”
The sanctuary was mostly full by the time we found the row our family usually sat in. The pew
s all had the same pea-colored cushions and the wood was a deep cherry red. Overhead, the modern recessed lighting gleamed off the highly-polished pews and gave the space a less gloomy look than just the sun through intricate stained glass.
People around us talked quietly, together forming a constant, low, burbling murmur. I peered around for faces I might recognize. There weren’t many. More times than I could count I found people looking back at me. Their eyes shot back down the moment I saw caught them and they would begin talking to whoever was sitting near them. It didn’t take long to figure out what was going on.
Looks like I’m the big news today, I thought.
My mental process was broken when I could have sworn I heard Hale’s voice over my right shoulder.
“Mister Atwater? Sir?”
Father turned around and so did I. It was Hale. He was standing in the aisle and dressed to the nines in a suave, sand-colored suit, with a vibrant, emerald-green tie around his neck that matched his eyes so well it almost looked like it was made of the same stuff.
When did he get a suit? And come to church?!
“Did Kat let you know about the part I need?” he asked without even looking in my direction.
“Uh…yes,” father said, apparently just as shocked to see Hale in church as me. “Kat filled me in first thing this morning. I’ll put the order in on Monday.”
“Good,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure. Once it comes in, I can get the harvester back up and runnin’, sir.”
“Fine, fine.” Daddy nodded and laced his hands together over his stomach.
Hale shifted his gaze down to me. “Good mornin’, Kat.”
“What are you doin’ here?” I asked suddenly, ignoring his greeting and trying my best not to show the entire church my attitude.
“It seemed like it was time.”
“Like it was time?” I lowered my voice a little more. “Did you get drunk and hit your head or something, Hale?”
“No,” he said plainly. “Someone convinced me I ought to start goin’.”
I could hardly believe it. “Who? And don’t tell me it was Jesus, or so help me-“
And at that moment, a long, delicate arm wrapped around him and a set of perfectly-manicured fingernails dug into the side of Hale’s suit jacket. Attached to the arm was none other than a smiling Cindy Reid, looking as devious and smug as ever, and wearing a scarlet dress so tight and short that the women in the pews were probably ready to scream blasphemy and the men were having trouble keeping their eyes from popping out of their head. Her blonde hair was laid out long and straight down her back, with only a barrette that matched her dress to hold it in place.
Hale tilted his head towards her and said, “Cindy here invited me. Her family’s a big supporter of Ridgewater Baptist, you know.”
I watched as Cindy traced one nail down the front of Hale’s shirt and a sick, icy feeling developed in my stomach. “Daddy said we ought to start goin’ more often,” she said with a slight giggle. Then she put her hand up to her face and whispered, “He’s here, too. With everything goin’ on at the plant and the lawsuit and all…well, people seein’ we’re good Christians, it makes em’ more comfortable.”
I think you mean sick, I thought, but I’d wished I’d said it aloud. Talking like that would have gotten me more gasps from the crowd than Cindy’s slutty outfit.
“Up front?” Hale turned to her and asked and then they were gone, walking together down the aisle to join her father in the first row of pews. The head of every member in the congregation swiveled to watch them as they went.
I was rocked out of my trance by Momma, who quickly came shuffling into our row, plopping down with urgency between me and my father.
“My goodness! She ought to be ashamed of herself, looking like that in the house of our Lord,” mother whispered loudly. One of the women seated in front of us nodded her head in silent agreement. “And here with Hale Ellis! Why, when Miss Pauline and I saw ‘em comin’ up the sidewalk both of us thought for sure they’d burst into flame soon as they crossed the front door!”
“I’m kind of surprised they didn’t,” I muttered.
“Now I ain’t one to get down on nobody for comin’ ta church or tryin’ to find Jesus,” mother quickly reiterated, “Love the sinner and hate the sin, that’s what my Daddy taught me! But for land’s sakes, lookin’ like…like that….well, it ain’t the way to be presentin’ yourself ‘fore the entire congregation.”
“There sure is a lot of sin sittin’ in that front pew,” I remarked.
Momma turned to my father and slapped her hand against his arm. “That boy tell you what he was here for? I saw him talkin’ to you, George.”
“He jus’ asked me about them bearings for the harvester. Said that Miss Cindy Reid up yonder invited him to come along to service.”
Mother shifted in her seat and craned her neck like she was gawking at a crash on the side of the road. “Yep. That’s her father, Patterson, up there sittin’ with ‘em. Miss Pauline was tellin’ me he was here. Why, he ain’t been in church since he was runnin’ for mayor all them years ago.”
“And after his wife died,” Daddy reminded her.
“That’s right. God bless her soul.” Momma put her hand over her chest and held a long blink. “She was a good woman.”
Before mother could say anything else that she’d have to chastise herself for later, the subdued music raised a few octaves and the organ began to chime out loudly with the hymnal notes of The Old Rugged Cross. Pastor James emerged from the vestibule, dressed in the same purple-colored robes I remembered him wearing when I was just a little girl. After rousing the church to sing and going over a few mundane, upcoming events, he launched into his sermon.
He spoke spiritedly of forgiveness, and how all of us should look within to find it. “Just like Jesus,” he’d said, and that we should try to live our lives the same way, but I found it intensely hard to be very Christ-like right about then. Cindy was sitting so close to Hale that she might as well have been on his lap. Suddenly I began to wish that I’d ripped out a few chunks of that perfect blonde mop on her head the day I’d run into her at the market.
Yes, definitely not what Jesus would do.
Just look at them. And he denied that they had been together! I thought, stewing in my own bitterness while I watched them. That son of a bitch. Once a liar, always a liar. When he briefly turned towards me, as if to make sure I was seeing him and her together, I wanted to scream. He was still playing with me, even though I’d broken it off with him weeks ago.
I stayed that way for the rest of the service, and most of Pastor James’ words wound up sounding like a constant drone inside my ears. After he concluded and the collection plate was passed around, the normal protocol was broken and the pastor informed us that Patterson Reid, “A prominent member of our congregation,” had asked to speak a few words.
A few members clapped as the balding, heavy-set man walked up to the pulpit, but most simply watched and listened. They knew he was important. They knew he was rich. Everyone in Kirkland had seen him campaign for mayor in his tailored suit which cost thousands, or they’d watched him drive by downtown in his antique Bugatti during his weekend “pleasure drives”. He’d run the town for two years and done a fair job at it, but what many people would never know were just how many tricks he pulled in that position to fill his own pockets. Those who did were well-paid for their silence.
Reid cleared his throat with one large hand curled into a fist over his mouth and his thick, greyish-white beard, then he adjusted his glasses and began to speak.
“Thank you, Pastor James. Thank you, all of ya’ll who have joined with us on this glorious Sunday morning, for giving me the opportunity to speak today before the whole entirety of Ridgewater Baptist.”
Patterson Reid was no stranger to speaking to a large crowd. His voice was forceful and charismatic, just the way the best, most crooked politicians addressed their constituents.
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��As many of you have probably heard by now, there have been false allegations made against my company, PCR Phosphate, which employs hundreds of workers right here in Kirkland. These allegations have come in the form of a federal lawsuit, which threatens the livelihood of many of you who are listening. And tomorrow, we go to trial.”
Reid folded up the piece of paper he was reading from and stuck it into his pocket. He leaned forward on the pulpit and glanced out into the crowd. “Now, I’m aware that I’ve been absent more often than not within the walls of this church over the last few months, and I know that there is no good or reasonable excuse for it. Still, I consider myself a part of this family, and all of you know that I’ll do whatever I have to, no matter what, if it means securing the welfare of this wonderful town and telling the government to leave our hard-working employees alone.”
There was another smattering of applause, louder than the first one, and he continued, “Kirkland depends on you. I implore all of you to think about that tonight, and what it means if we just stand idly by and let the strong hand of a bunch of government lawyers steer us in whatever direction they want. I, for one, will stand up and say, ‘No’ to their scare tactics. I will stand up and tell them, ‘We won’t be pushed around.’ I promise to stand up and protect the most vital, most important part of our community – the people who want to work, and don’t want another government hand out! I sincerely hope that all of you will stand beside me, and beside what this town means to everyone that lives here. Thank you.”
I wondered if they’d forgotten about the people that had fallen ill over the years because of the poison that plant put in the water. The end of his speech was covered by the boisterous sound of applause. Just like that, with a few sugary words, Patterson Reid had won so many of them over. The smile on his face was a mile long as he shook the pastor’s hand and returned to his seat. He looked every bit like the cat that had just eaten the canary.
They had forgotten, hadn’t they? He’d convinced them.
Love Lift Me Page 11
