by Neta Jackson
The others were arriving. “Well, I haven’t looked at the material but . . .” Frankly, it was the only solid idea they had in hand. Maybe they should look into it.
The moment Shareese proposed the video series, the committee pounced on it. “Love it!” “Oh, that Priscilla Shirer—she’s great!” “If we do a series, we won’t have to come up with something new every month.” And . . . “Having to meet every Sunday after church is a pain in the you-know-what. Let’s do it and be done. I’m hungry.” Sister Paulette was on her feet, ready to go out the door.
“Wait just a moment.” Michelle felt she needed to regain some control of the process. “We haven’t decided to do it yet. We’re just deciding to look into it.” Shareese’s enthusiasm was contagious, but there was still a proper order to making decisions. “Norma, would you be willing to do some research, maybe check out a few churches who’ve used this series and how it worked for them?” She could count on Norma to have a level head. “Don’t mean to rush you, but can you get back to us by next Sunday? That still only gives us two weeks to order the materials and advertise the event here at Northside.”
Fifteen minutes and they were done. That part was nice. Until Michelle remembered that she’d be gone with the family next Sunday. Ouch. Well, she’d stay in touch with Norma and communicate to the committee by e-mail if necessary.
Jared and the kids were ready to go and, as usual, they headed for Old Country Buffet for their Sunday lunch. The balmy May temperatures had suddenly soared into the high eighties and they were all glad to get into the air-conditioned restaurant. But Jared seemed preoccupied and didn’t head back to the buffet stations as he usually did when the three kids scurried back for seconds
“Honey, everything okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, just . . . Pastor Q told me his brother-in-law passed yesterday. Not Donna’s brother, but her sister’s husband. Cancer, I think.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. They should’ve said something from the pulpit.”
He shrugged. “They just found out this morning. Guess they’re still getting used to the news. But . . .” The twins and Destin came back just then, comparing plates and noisily slurping their refills on lemonade and soft drinks. “Never mind,” Jared finished. “I’ll fill you in later.”
As they pulled up in front of the house forty-five minutes later, Jared put a hand on her arm as the kids clambered out of the minivan and headed for the house. “Wait,” he said. “I need to tell you something.”
Michelle raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Pastor Q said their brother-in-law’s funeral is next weekend down in Rantoul. They’re going of course and he, uh, asked if I would bring the message next Sunday.”
She stared at him. “Next Sunday? Jared! That’s Memorial Day weekend. You told him we’re going to be gone, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “I . . . didn’t. I mean, it’s a family emergency for them, seemed like I ought to support our pastor by covering for him.”
For a moment, Michelle was so steamed she didn’t trust herself to speak. But then the words tumbled out. “So. Pastor Q and the church come before your family, is that it?” Without waiting for a reply, she opened the car door and slammed it shut behind her as she stormed up the walk to the house.
Chapter 12
Unbelievable! How could he?
Michelle marched straight to their bedroom and banged the door shut. The kids were going to be so disappointed! She was disappointed. She’d actually thought they were going to pull off a short family vacation. Huh! Should’ve known better. If it wasn’t Jared’s ATC schedule at O’Hare, it was something at Northside Baptist. The tail wagging the dog as far as she was concerned.
She had just stepped out of her Sunday dress and kicked off her heels when the bedroom door opened and Jared came in. Turning her back, she pulled on a pair of khaki capris and a lightweight cotton blouse.
“Michelle? Look, honey, let me finish, okay? I want to explain.”
A few choice retorts leaped to her tongue but she kept her mouth shut and strapped on her good walking sandals. It was hot out there, but she needed to go for a walk. Something. Anything. Just get out of the house.
“I understand you’re upset. But this doesn’t mean you and the kids shouldn’t go. I’m really sorry this happened, but—”
“Fine. We’ll go without you.” Her words were clipped. “I don’t plan to disappoint the kids just because you don’t know how to say no.”
Jared peeled off his tie. “It’s not that. I . . . I’ve actually been praying for a chance to bring the Word some Sunday, feeling a little limited in my role as deacon. I think I have more to offer the church, but I didn’t want to push myself—you know, don’t think more of myself than I ought to think, like that verse says. And then, God just drops the opportunity in my lap! It seemed like a God-thing! Honestly, Michelle, it seemed like I was supposed to say yes.”
Michelle buckled the last sandal. Oh great. Now Jared was playing the “God card.” How could she fight against “God told me to”?
She paused . . . and then sighed and flopped down into the chair by the window overlooking their backyard. Such as it was. Hardly bigger than a postage stamp, especially since their garage took up part of it. Flowers. They needed some flowers both front and back to spruce things up. She should’ve asked for a hanging basket for the front porch for Mother’s Day instead of the cut flowers that were gone by midweek.
They were both quiet for several minutes as Jared finished changing into a pair of cargo shorts and a Bulls T-shirt. Her anger was gradually dissipating. She didn’t want to fight with Jared. She knew he was sincere. Serving God in the church was deep in his heart. “It’s just so disappointing!” she blurted.
“I know.” He sat on the edge of the bed nearest her.
“Can’t you come for part of the time at least? If we go down on Friday, you could come back Saturday night. We’d have one day together at least.”
He shook his head. “Honey, you know what traffic is like Friday night—especially on holiday weekends. A madhouse! That’s why we usually drive to your folks’ early Saturday morning. I’d no sooner get there than I’d have to turn around and come back. Though that’s not the only reason. I work all week . . . so I know I’m going to need Saturday to prepare a sermon. I don’t do this every week, you know.”
Her eyes teared up, and she had to reach for a tissue and blow her nose. “Well, you’re going to have to be the one to tell the kids. I don’t want to.”
“Okay.” Jared took off his wire rims and cleaned the lenses. “Actually, I’ve been trying to think of a way to make it up to the kids, and remembered the guy I met at the neighborhood thing for Mrs. Krakowski—Singer . . . Greg Singer, I think. They live next to the corner house at the end of the block. He works for Powersports, puts on big sport vehicle expos. Anyway, he practically offered Destin and me a ride on a cigarette boat—”
“A what?”
“Ha, ha. A cigarette boat, one of those really fast powerboats you sometimes see in the lake. Anyway, his company’s putting on a boat show down at Burnham Harbor June 3 through 6, I think he said. Thought maybe I’d walk down to his house, tell him I’m interested. Destin seemed excited about going, and I’m sure Tavis would too. Maybe even Tabby. It might be something special I could do with the kids to make up for this weekend.”
“I guess.” Michelle frowned thoughtfully. “I met his wife that night—her name’s Nicole. She’s a stay-at-home mom who homeschools their two kids. Been thinking I should try to get to know her a little. She was all dolled up as if the little neighborhood event was a major outing. Must be kind of lonely staying at home with her kids all the time since everyone else in the neighborhood goes to work or school.” Well, maybe not everyone. She wasn’t sure about Rebecca Horowitz, the Jewish mom she’d talked to last week. Rebecca had young kids, even a baby. Maybe she was an at-home mom too.
Jared looked hopeful. “Would you like to walk down
to the Singers’ with me? Might be nice for both of us to show up.” He looked sheepish. “Actually, that would make it more of a social visit, instead of just me showing up with my hand out for a free boat ride.”
“Uh huh. So now you want me to help bail you out of bailing on us this weekend? Shame on you, Jared Jasper.” But she allowed a small smile to tip the corners of her mouth.
He reached out with one hand and pulled her out of the chair onto the bed, making her shriek. “That, or we could forget the Singers and generate some hanky-panky right here in the bedroom.”
“Oh you!” Michelle wiggled out of his grasp. She wasn’t ready to go from Angry Wife to Lover Girl that fast. “Give me five minutes to repair my face and I’ll walk down to the Singers with you.”
* * *
It felt good to get out in the fresh air, even if the temperature had hiked up just shy of ninety degrees. “Typical Chicago weather,” Jared groused as he and Michelle walked toward the Singers’ house. “First it’s winter, then it skips over spring and suddenly it’s summer. It’s not even Memorial Day yet!”
“At least the humidity isn’t too bad . . . oh shoot!” Michelle slapped her forehead.
“What?”
She pointed at Grace Meredith’s house as they passed. “Grace ordered a whole bunch of brochures from Lifeline for her concerts next weekend, and I totally forgot to give them to her. They’re still in the trunk of your car. Help me remember to get them out when we get back, okay?”
Jared grunted. But he’d probably forget. What she should have done was write it down on her to-do list.
The next yellow brick bungalow they passed had a large, curved bay window that took up three-quarters of the front of the house. Lacy curtains peeked through its four tall windows, which were arched at the top. The mixed couple who lived there—he was white, she was black—rarely seemed to be home, even on weekends, and when Michelle did see them coming and going, both of them were always dressed in suits or other office attire. Professional types. “DINKS”—Double-Income-No-Kids. Eyeing the lacy curtains, she was sure the house must be decorated to the nines.
A couple of men were sitting on the steps of 7323–7325, the only other two-flat on the block besides the Bentleys’. “Hola!” One of the men waved at them. Michelle and Jared waved back. The family on the first floor had a couple of cute kids she saw from time to time, but they were much younger than the twins. She was pretty sure the name was Alvarez—at least they’d gotten mail with that name and address by mistake from time to time, and she’d had to put it in their mailbox.
They turned in at the next-to-last house before the corner. This was a more typical brick bungalow, considered one and a half stories, probably a remodeled attic because a café curtain covered the single window under the pitched roof. Walking up onto the small porch, Jared rang the doorbell.
A pale woman with longish blonde hair opened the door. “Oh! Uh, hello.”
“Nicole?” Michelle smiled. “We met last weekend when Mrs. Krakowski came back to the neighborhood.”
“I remember . . . Michelle Jasper, right?”
“And I’m Jared.” Jared held out his hand. Nicole shook it tentatively. “Is your husband home? I actually came down to see him, and my wife wanted to come along to say hi.”
Well, Michelle thought, as good an excuse as any.
Nicole Singer opened the door a bit wider. “You want to come in?”
Stepping into a foyer of sorts, Michelle took in the layout at a glance—living room off to the right side, dining room off to the left and a glimpse of the kitchen beyond that in back. Directly in front of them were stairs going up to the floor above, and beside it a hallway leading to, she supposed, one or more bedrooms and a bath.
“Greg?” Nicole stepped to the living room archway. “Someone to see you.” She beckoned at Jared. “He’s in here.” But instead of going into the living room with them, the woman turned to Michelle and asked, “Would you like some iced tea?” Without waiting for an answer, Nicole headed the other way through the dining room. Leading the way into the kitchen, she waved at a little breakfast nook along the back wall with a window overlooking the backyard. “Have a seat. The tea’s unsweetened, but you can add sweetener if you like.”
Never the same, Michelle thought, scooting into the breakfast booth, but she smiled. “That’ll be fine.”
Michelle heard feet pounding down the uncarpeted stairs, and the next moment two blonde tornados swept into the kitchen. “Who’s talking to Daddy?—Oh.” The girl and boy—about eight and six—stopped and stared at Michelle.
She smiled at them. “Hi. I’m Mrs. Jasper. We live down the street, right next to the big house at the dead end.”
“You live next to Mr. Paddock?”
Michelle was surprised they knew the man’s name. “That’s right. On this side of the street.”
“Danny and his two daddies live next to Mr. Paddock on the other side of the street,” the boy piped up. “But we’re not s’posed to talk about that.”
Nicole seemed uncomfortable. “Kids. They seem to know everybody.”
The two children clambered onto the breakfast nook bench across from Michelle. “Nuh-uh!” The boy shook her head. “We didn’t know Mr. Paddock before, but now we do ’cause he gave us a ride in his big limo. It has a TV!”
“Yeah. An’ a refrigerator and stuff to drink!” his sister chimed in.
“All right kids, that’s enough.” Nicole handed them two plastic kid glasses with straws sticking out of the snap-on covers. “Why don’t you take your iced tea into the backyard?”
“Aw, we wanna stay here.”
“Out. Now.”
The two kids slunk out the back door. Nicole smiled apologetically as she brought two glasses of iced tea to the nook and pushed the sugar bowl toward Michelle. “I’m with the kids 24/7, so they think they belong in the middle of every conversation. But I don’t often get to visit with another adult.”
Michelle tried not to show her surprise. The woman really did seem lonely. “I didn’t catch their names.”
“Oh. Sorry. Becky is our oldest, she’s eight, and Nathan is six. I homeschool them. We have a school area set up in the basement. Been doing it now for four years, ever since Becky was in kindergarten.”
“Sounds like a big commitment. How did you and your husband decide to homeschool?” Michelle stirred two heaping teaspoons of sugar into her tea, studying her hostess as the woman chatted. Nicole was a natural blonde as far as she could tell, with blue-grey eyes and pleasant features. She carried a few extra pounds—Michelle had gained a few herself after three kids—but was still very attractive.
“—What about you? What do you do?” Nicole was asking.
Michelle told her a little bit about Bridges and Lifeline. “Together they keep me so busy, I hardly know if I’m coming or going. At least Sunday’s a day of rest. Or supposed to be.”
“Your husband?”
“Jared? His schedule is even nuttier than mine. He works at O’Hare Airport as an air traffic controller. Crazy hours. His shift changes every two days. What about your husband? Jared says Greg puts on these sport expos or something like that.”
“Did.”
Michelle wasn’t sure she heard right. “Did?”
“He did work for Powersports Expos. But he, uh . . .” Nicole picked at a stray spot of food stuck to the nook table. “Greg says he wants to, um, move on, explore some new opportunities.”
“Oh. That’s . . . interesting.” Michelle wasn’t sure how to respond. Was this good news? Or bad news? Didn’t sound like he had anything in place.
She was just about to ask what kind of opportunities Greg was exploring when she heard Jared calling from the foyer. “Michelle? You ready to go?”
“Coming!” She slid out of the breakfast nook bench, but turned back to Nicole. “Making a job change can be challenging, I’m sure. A brave thing to do—maybe scary too. I’ll be praying for you both.”
Nic
ole nodded but didn’t follow her out to the foyer.
Greg Singer showed them to the door. “Thanks for stopping by, Jasper. Sorry I can’t get you those tickets.” The two men shook hands. Greg was several inches shorter than Jared, clean-shaven, face slightly tan, hazel eyes and brown wavy hair, nice-looking. Still in dress slacks and an open-necked, short-sleeved shirt.
“Not a problem. Best wishes on your new venture.”
The door closed behind them.
Michelle waited until they got out to the sidewalk. “So, no tickets. Guess he told you about the job.”
“Uh-huh. Said it was time for a change. He seemed pretty upbeat about it. But to tell the truth, I can’t imagine why a guy would up and make a change like that without something already in his pocket.”
“Me either. I mean, his wife is a stay-at-home mom. So it’s his income, period.”
“Well, Greg seems like an enterprising kind of guy. Hope it works out for them.”
Michelle walked silently up Beecham Street beside Jared, lost in her own thoughts. A one-income family with two kids? Giving up a sure thing to try something new? If she was Nicole, she’d be scared spitless.
Chapter 13
Michelle was heading into the house when she realized Jared was no longer beside her. He’d stopped by the Altima at the curb and popped the trunk. “Where are you going?”
He eyed her patiently. “Nowhere. You said you wanted the stuff for Grace Meredith that you left in the car.”
“Oh, right.” She scurried back to the car. “Thanks for remembering,” she added, hoping sincerity would cover her first assumption that he was going off somewhere. Guess she was still kind of mad about Memorial Day weekend.
Might as well take them over to Grace’s house now, while she was thinking about it. The invoice was in the plastic bag with the brochures, all four sets. “Be back in a sec,” she told Jared.
