by Lynne Gentry
“You know how I hate to miss a good show,” his grandmother smiled.
Cotton clapped David on the shoulder and winked. “God works in mysterious ways, boy.”
“That he does, Cotton. That he does.”
“David.”
He turned to see his sister standing with open arms. “Maddie!” He scooped her up and twirled her around. He set her down and clasped her shoulders. “Does this mean Nellie’s going to be alright?”
“She came through surgery fine. Waiting on labs.” Maddie tilted her head toward the door where Momma and Maxine stood, their arms draped around each other’s shoulders. “The minute she came to, Nellie insisted I bring them to the church.”
“She’s wanting a full report on her stand-in.”
Maddie pulled David aside. “I think we have a bigger problem than Nellie’s jealousy over Amy.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “What now?”
Maddie jerked her head toward the door and whispered, “They’re both high.”
“Momma and Maxine?” David laughed. “That’s crazy.”
“Their eyes are bloodshot.”
He shrugged. “They’ve been crying all afternoon.”
“Their reaction times are delayed.”
He watched his mother and Maxine stagger to the bench. “They’re old.”
Maggie bowed up, put out he was making her jump through technical hoops rather than take her trained medical opinion as fact. “They’re starving,” she growled between clenched teeth.
“They probably haven’t had dinner.”
“David, they ate a whole plate of brownies in the hospital waiting room and Maxine demanded I stop at the corner gas station for chips.”
He glanced at the bench. Momma was seated with her head leaning against the wall. A mellow grin pleated her face as she watched Maxine, who was draped in fur and as animated as a cartoon character in fast-forward mode.
“Why is Maxine talking so fast and dancing around?”
“I told you, they’re high.”
“Why did you let them get high?” David whispered.
“Don’t you know weed when you smell it?” Maddie inhaled deeply. “Somebody is cooking pot.”
Suddenly the familiarity of the odor he’d blamed on skunks smacked him between the eyes. He’d been so preoccupied by all the details he’d totally pushed his memories of frat house parties from his mind. What an idiot. “Ollie’s brownies!” Terror griped David’s chest. “I gotta get back there.”
The sound of Ivan’s drum rumbled in the sanctuary. “Too late,” Maddie said. “Don’t you have to do the welcome?”
David rubbed his temples, trying to think. He pointed at Momma and Maxine. “Put those two on the back row and don’t let them move.” He thrust the Storys’ pickles at Maddie. “After I do the welcome, I’ll try to slip out and shut down our marijuana edibles production line before someone calls the cops.”
“Who’s smokin’ weed?” Parker stuck his head inside Maddie and David’s huddle and pointed at Momma and Maxine. “Are those two high?”
“Shhh!” David and Maddie said simultaneously.
“Nobody’s smoking, Parker.” Maddie tilted her head toward Momma and Maxine. “They’ve accidentally ingested an unknown substance.”
“Whatever they ate, it’s nailing them harder than a hit from a bong,” Parker said.
David and Maddie stared at Parker in shocked disbelief.
Parker shrugged off their speechlessness. “Ingested weed gets metabolized by the liver, so technically the delta-9 TCH becomes 11-hydroxy-TCH which passes the blood barrier more rapidly and leads to a heightened psychedelic effect. Those two are in for one heck of a ride.”
“Who are you?” Maddie asked Parker with a mixture of frustration and pure admiration.
“Plant Biology 101,” Parker smiled, pleased he’d finally gotten Maddie’s attention. “They’ll be stoned for four to eight hours.” He sniffed the air. “Smells like we’re all going to feel pretty good before this night is over.” He gave David’s shoulder a playful punch. “At least you know you don’t have skunks.”
From the sanctuary came the sound of Ivan impatiently brushing the cymbals again, this time more urgently.
“Parker, stop spouting science and make yourself useful,” Maddie ordered. “Peel Momma off the bench while I try to rope in Maxine.”
“Patience, grasshopper.” Parker winked at Maddie.
“Parker!” David whispered. “This isn’t funny, man.”
“David, go!” Maddie pushed him toward the sanctuary doors.
David bolted down the aisle. He could tell the house was packed long before he took the stage in one leap. The thrill of actually pulling Christmas off temporarily had been flushed from his mind. He flicked on the mic and threw himself into a welcome he hoped sounded heartfelt and warm. As he finished up, his peripheral vision caught the slight swaying of Amy as she waited in the shadows. She was pale and struggling to breathe in and out. If the pot fumes were getting to her, no telling what would happen when she tried to sing. “And now, we’ll be blessed by the songs of Amy Maxwell.”
He walked over to Amy and gave her his hand-held mic. Her fingers were cold as they brushed his. “You okay?” he whispered.
“I’ve got a headache,” she mouthed back. “Sit on the front row, please.”
He mentally stuttered between saving his own neck and saving Amy. “You got it, beautiful.” He winked and squeezed her free hand. “Remember, you’re enough.”
Amy took her place on the stage. And David took his place on the front row. The spotlights came up slowly, framing her terrified face in a hazy glow. David looked up. Pot smoke swirled from the air ducts pointed at the stage.
Wilma plucked out the intro bars on the electric keyboard.
Amy closed her eyes and opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her eyes flew open and frantically searched the front row for David.
He gave her a short nod, meant for only her. Silent encouragement passed between them. Amy took a steadying breath, but David held his. Wilma began the intro one more time. Amy closed her eyes. David watched the smoke drift down toward the stage. Amy’s first notes were shaky but they were right on pitch. She smiled and took a relieved breath. By the time she reached the part where the narrator asks Mary about her baby boy walking on water, it was as if angels had hijacked Amy’s nerves and filled her lungs with pure stardust. Or pot smoke? David wasn’t sure which and he didn’t care. She was singing. Not just for him, but for her.
As Amy’s voice climbed to the crescendo, warmth flushed through David. He was helplessly in love and completely unaware that the sickly sweet smell wafting over the stage had now spread throughout the sanctuary.
Amy lowered her mic to thunderous applause. She beamed at David, who was clapping loudest of all. Once everyone had quieted but before Ivan could move on to the next number, Maxine twirled down the aisle, shouting, “I feel like I’m in one of those god-awful music videos.” She spun toward the stage.
David lunged for the whirl of fur. “Maxine.” The hem of the elder’s wife’s coat knocked him off balance as she twirled out of reach. David stumbled, empty-handed to the other side of the stage.
Maxine did a wobbly pirouette up the center steps. “How could Mary have known what would happen to her son? What mother ever does?” She ripped the mic from Amy’s hands and plastered her own lips to the head. She turned and faced the audience. “I told Howard if he bought that damn horse I’d never sleep with him again.”
“Maxine!” Howard’s voice boomed from the back of the sanctuary. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing?”
His wife wavered back and forth, her hand rising slowly to shield her eyes from the spot. She squinted until she located her husband. “I’m telling these people the truth, Howard.”
David heard Momma scream, “Maxine, don’t.”
Momma, Maddie, and Parker ran down the aisle. By the time they reached the stage,
Maxine had crumpled in uncontrollable sobs.
“It’s Howard’s fault.” Maxine cried into the mic. “He killed my boy.”
Horrified chatter rippled across the auditorium.
Nola Gay stood up and faced the crowd. “Nothing to see here folks. Let’s escape this foul smell and adjourn to the fellowship hall for some brownies.”
“No!” David grabbed the microphone and announced, “No one eat the brownies!”
Maxine babbled nonsensically throughout David’s brief explanation and apology. She cranked it up to wailing while the sanctuary emptied at a snail’s pace. No one was willing to admit it, but everyone was dying to know what else the elder’s wife would scream at her husband, even though Howard was long gone, having been the first one out the front door.
David did not drop on the front pew until Parker had cleared everyone but Maddie, Amy, Momma, Maxine, and the sickly sweet smell of chocolaty pot. David looked at his shoes. His feet were killing him. If he could kick off his father’s shoes here and now, he’d throw them across the sanctuary and never put them on again.
“Anything else I can do?” Parker asked Maddie who was crouched beside Maxine and trying to get her to be still long enough to examine her.
“Her vitals are good and she’s not having any chest pain.” Maddie told him. “I think she just needs to sleep it off.”
“Want me to take her home?” Parker asked.
Maddie looked around. “Guess you’ll have to. I don’t think Howard’s coming back any time soon. David and I can get Momma home.”
Momma’s red-heeled feet hung over the edge of the pew where she’d passed out.
David felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He glanced behind him.
Saul Levy. Great.
“I’ll help your sister escort your mother home while you deal with the situation in the kitchen.” Saul hadn’t threatened. He didn’t have to. David knew Mt. Hope Community wasn’t legally out of the woods. Etta May’s promise to activate the prayer chain had set the local police sirens in motion.
“Thanks, Mr. Levy.”
As David pushed himself up from the pew his grandmother wheeled up, a pleased smile lighting her face. “Now that’s what I call a Christmas Eve show.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Snowflakes swirled in the freezing wind as Amy followed David to the car. “I’m coming with you.” She hopped into the passenger seat of Leona’s van and shut the door before he could argue.
David got in and pumped the gas. “It could be a long night.”
“Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easy,” she teased as she reached across the console and squeezed his hand. “I got you into this mess. Only right I help get you out.”
“I would do it again, you know?” In the light of the dash, she saw a flicker of the smile her kisses had put on his face earlier. “In all the craziness”—his breath puffed out in little white clouds—“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how amazing you are.” He drew their clasped hands to his lips and kissed hers. “Adele better watch her back.”
Warmth surged through Amy’s limbs. “And you better see where they’re taking our boy.”
They followed the flashing blue lights of the police cruiser to the station. Angus climbed out of the back of the squad car, his hands cuffed. The van’s headlights shone on his terrified face.
Amy and David jumped out and ran to him.
“Don’t say anything, Angus,” David shouted over the wind.
“Angus!” Ruthie rushed up. “I’m here, boy.”
“I’m sorry, MeMaw.” Angus ducked his head in shame. “I wasn’t thinkin’.” He let the officer lead him inside.
“Help my boy, David.” Ruthie begged. “He didn’t know.”
Ollie had slipped out the back door of the fellowship hall long before the sirens arrived. While Amy was sure the old man had tried to take Angus with him, the boy had stayed behind to comfort Ruthie. What Ruthie was saying was probably true. Angus had no idea Ollie was cooking marijuana edibles. Convincing a judge would take some doing. Convincing Maxine, once she came down off her high, would take a miracle.
By the time Amy and David put Ruthie and Angus in her car after taking care of all the bail formalities, pink streaks cut through dark gray clouds. Skiffs of snow dusted the awnings of several downtown buildings.
Hand in hand Amy and David walked to the van. He reached for the door handle, but before he could help her inside she pulled him to her. “Merry Christmas, David.”
“Not exactly how I planned our first Christmas together.”
She put her hands on his cold cheeks and drew his lips close to hers. “Wait until you see what kind of mess I get you into next year.”
“Bring it on, woman.”
Their kiss was a mixture of relief and worry. They both knew the crisis had not been averted, only diverted. The real impact of what had happened had yet to reverberate through the church and when it did, more than stained-glassed windows would shake. Heads were likely to roll. Theirs.
For now, none of that mattered. Amy pressed deeper, drinking in the feeling of being safely wrapped in the arms of a man not afraid to take on a challenge. Her included.
For now, it was Christmas morning and God had given her the greatest gift of all. Unconditional love.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Momma was exceptionally quiet when she finally emerged from her bedroom somewhere around three Christmas afternoon. David wasn’t sure if her melancholy was the result of the aftermath of her first high or the mess they’d made of their first Christmas without Dad.
If either of them had been in a better mood, they might have appreciated the Christmas miracle of Maddie and Grandmother working together to put a meal on the table. A meal none of them had the heart to eat.
He needed to know what to do. “Momma?”
She raised her palm. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
The day after Christmas Momma didn’t come down to breakfast. Turmoil rumbled in David’s gut. He’d burst if he sat around and did nothing another day.
He should right the situation on his own. After all this wasn’t Momma’s mess. It was his.
He’d start by airing out the church.
David donned an old sweatshirt and headed across the parking lot. He opened the door to the fellowship hall. The place still reeked. He cringed at his foolishness and started propping doors open. Holding his breath, he jogged through the building and jammed the door stops under the sanctuary doors in hopes of creating a cross-draft.
Now for the mess in the kitchen. It took him an hour to shove uneaten brownies down the disposal, bag the crusty mixing bowls, and haul anything pot had touched to the dumpster. For good measure, he bleached every kitchen surface and wiped out the oven. His teeth chattering from the cold wind whipping through the building, he sniffed. The skunky smell remained. It had even infiltrated his father’s office.
He’d just wedged an old paint stick under the window sash behind his father’s desk when the door suddenly flew open.
“Here you are, you coward.” Maxine stood with hands on hips, her nostrils flaring.
David wiped his numb fingers on his sweatshirt. “I was waiting until after the holidays to talk to you, Maxine.”
“After the holidays or after I sobered up?”
“I’m sorry—”
“Did I or did I not warn you about taking in vagrants?”
Maxine’s fiery breath blasted him in front. “You were right.” Cold air blasted him in the back. “I admit it.”
“Not only are the Episcopalians having a good laugh at the expense of Mt. Hope Community, the entire town is laughing at me.” She stormed to his desk, her red-rimmed eyes flashing. “Howard hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”
“I’m sorry, Maxine.”
“Don’t blame the Harpers,” Maxine snarled as she snugged her fur coat closed. “That’s what Howard has preached at me for years. And then, when I finally do what he says, less than two hours
later I’m drugged by one of the Harper vagrants.”
“Look, I know Christmas Eve was a bust—”
“Bust?” Maxine screeched. “It was a catastrophe of Biblical proportions!”
“In the future, I’ll be more careful,” David promised through chattering teeth. “Supervise our converts more closely.”
“Future?” Maxine’s finger tapped the desk. “There is no future for you here, Davy.”
“But—”
“I’ve got the Board on my side.” She waved her hand. “You’re lucky I talked them out of suing.”
“For what?”
“For ruining the reputation of Mt. Hope Community Church!”
“You mean your reputation.”
Maxine shuddered. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to pack up your belongings and go.” She wheeled and crashed into Momma who was standing behind her with her mouth hanging open in silent disbelief. “And take your mother with you.” Maxine shouted as she pushed past Momma.
David smacked his palm against his father’s shelf of commentaries. “That is one mean woman.”
Momma came in. “She’s hurting, David.”
“Enough with the excuses,” David shouted. “I’m sick of you covering for her.”
“She’s my friend.”
“She’s not.”
Momma pointed behind him. “Mind closing the window.”
“You think God’s going to open a door? He’s not.”
“David, you didn’t fail here.”
“Are you still high?”
Momma rubbed her temples. “Maybe a little hung over, but definitely back to reality.”
“I failed you.” David spun and fisted the paint stick free from the window sash. The window slammed shut with a jarring rattle. “You warned me about trying to save the underdogs.” He dropped into his father’s chair.
Momma reached for the Bible that was on the corner of the desk. “I want to show you something.”
“Don’t preach at me, Momma.”
“It’s not preaching if it’s the Lord speaking.” She flipped the onion-skinned pages until she found the passage she was searching for. “Colossians 1:9-10.” She slid the Bible across the desk. “Read it.”
