Hope Springs

by Kim Cash Tate

  She moved around the table, got their orders, and when she turned, Becca, Todd, and a few others were being seated in her section.

  She walked over. “What a really pleasant surprise to see you,” she said.

  Becca was smiling. “Good to see you too.” She was settling Claire in her seat. “You remember Calvary’s elders and their wives from Friday night?” She went down the table by name.

  “Yes, good to see you again.”

  Stephanie exchanged pleasantries, but knew she only had a moment. “You all must be looking forward to Todd’s first sermon next Sunday,” she said.

  “Couldn’t be more excited,” one of the wives said. They all looked to be from Todd’s father’s generation.

  “We’re proud of this young man, that’s for sure.” Willard was beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “And praying for him.”

  Todd held a sleepy Ethan in his lap. “I think I’ve prayed more the last three weeks than I’ve prayed my whole life. Not easy following my dad.”

  Willard looked into his eyes. “I hope you know we’re not expecting a reincarnation of Jim. You have your own calling, son, and we believe you’re the man for Calvary in this season. We’re trusting God to do great things through you.”

  “Appreciate that, Willard,” Todd said.

  The blueberry-gravy guy was eyeing Stephanie. She had to get moving. “I’ll be right back for your order,” she said. “Can I bring coffee, juice?”

  She took their drink orders and walked them back to the kitchen, stopping to check on three of her tables. She saw Sara Ann coming out of the swinging doors to the kitchen, moving at a rapid clip with a tray of entrées.

  Stephanie submitted her new orders. “And is that my spinach omelet, no cheese?”

  Hank had just pan-flipped some kind of omelet in the air. She loved how he did that.

  “One and the same,” he said. “Sixty seconds.”

  Stephanie waited, her mind back at Todd’s table. Something about that exchange, Todd’s comment about following his dad . . . That’s exactly how she’d always felt about Cyd. It wasn’t easy following her sister—Ph.D., college professor, gifted teacher in classical languages as well as the Bible, encourager, all-around role model. Stephanie never could’ve been all that, so she didn’t bother to try. If anything, she’d done the opposite.

  But just now, it clicked—it was never about following Cyd. It was about knowing her own calling and following that. But what was it exactly? Where was all this servant training leading? This stint in Hope Springs would pass quickly. What would she do next? Somehow returning to her routine of waking late morning and whiling the day away didn’t quite seem like a “calling.”

  “Yoo-hoo? Stephanie?” Hank’s hand was outstretched.

  “Oh, sorry. Thanks.”

  She took the plate and headed back out, certain of one thing. She didn’t want her posture to always be resisting. It would be nice to one day have a heart to do whatever God called her to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Friday, January 15

  Janelle was learning that Grandma Geri’s “planned course of treatment” would hardly ever go as planned. She’d been held at the hospital two additional nights, and because of the chest infection, the oncologist delayed the second dose of chemo until Friday. Janelle was getting to know the nurses and other workers in the infusion center. And the treatments, always ominous as a focus, could fade in the throes of a good time—which was exactly what she and Grandma Geri were having.

  Janelle laughed. “Grandma, what are you doing? You know an ace doesn’t beat a joker.”

  Grandma Geri kept a stone face, the cards she’d taken up still in her hand. “That’s the way we always played it.”

  “Grandma . . .” Janelle stretched the word, giving her time to recant.

  “Well, then let me keep my ace and play another card.”

  “Grandma, I never thought I’d see the day. You’re cheating.” Janelle held out her hand. “Those belong to me.”

  Grandma Geri handed them over, mumbling, “It’s the medicine they put in this drip thing.”

  Janelle shook her head. “I’m keeping a close eye on you from now on.”

  “Good. You can watch how bad I beat you.”

  Grandma Geri was in the recliner, hooked to an IV that dispensed the drugs, the machine making a steady rhythmic sound. Janelle had pulled a chair up close to her and set up a tray between them for the card game and snacks.

  “Oh!” Janelle said. They’d both played sixes. Janelle held her pile of cards in her hand and waited for her grandmother. “You ready?”

  “ ’Course I’m ready.” Grandma Geri lifted the first card.

  “I. De. Clare. War!”

  Grandma Geri squealed at the last card. “You gonna tell me your jack beats my queen?”

  “Ha ha.” Janelle glanced pitifully at her pile. “I’ve only got two cards left. You wouldn’t leave your granddaughter broken and cardless, would you?”

  “All day.”

  Janelle cracked up, then looked as the door to the treatment room opened.

  “Hey, hey!”

  Janelle smiled. “Hey, Pastor Trav.”

  “Travis.” Grandma Geri crooked her finger for him to come closer. “You’re just in time to catch this whuppin’.”

  Travis did a double take as he walked over. “Are y’all playing War? Oh my goodness, it’s been years.” He folded his arms. “Put it to her, Grandma Geri.”

  Janelle rolled her eyes at him.

  She and Grandma Geri played their next-to-last card.

  “Now maybe I forgot this too,” Grandma Geri said. “Does an eight beat a five?”

  Travis grinned.

  “All right, Grandma. Play the last one.”

  “Bam!” Travis said, capping the loss. “Winner and still champion, Geraldine Sanders!”

  Janelle picked up her pencil and made a tally mark. “That’s five games to my two. And we’re playing until I catch up and pass you.”

  “Go on and shuffle then.” Grandma Geri looked at Travis. “And how you doing today? Out visiting the sick and the shut-in?”

  “Only you, Grandma Geri. You know I had to come see my girl.” Travis got the only other chair in the room and brought it over. “Question is, how are you doing?”

  “God gives me grace. And I give Him praise.”

  Travis smiled. “I remember you used to say that, and I’d be thinking, ‘But how are you doing?’ Now I understand totally.”

  Janelle was giving the cards a good shuffle. “Travis, I’ve been meaning to ask you . . . Todd and Becca get here tomorrow. His first sermon at Calvary is Sunday. Don’t you want to hear it? I know I do.”

  “Yeah, I thought about that too. On the one hand, it’s cool that God’s got us both pastoring in Hope Springs. But we can’t take part in what the other’s doing because we’re at separate churches and we meet at the same time.”

  “That’s the thing,” Janelle said, watching the flutter of the cards as she shuffled. “What if New Jerusalem joined Calvary on Sunday?”

  “We can’t not have service, Janelle. I don’t see that going over well. I’m sure people are excited he’s back, but you know how it is. Calvary does its thing, we do ours. Always been that way.”

  “Unless it’s a wedding or a funeral.” Janelle started dealing the cards.

  “Ain’t nobody stopping you from going, Jan,” Grandma Geri said. “Go on and go.”

  “I know. I just thought it’d be nice to show full support.” She peeped at Travis. “Not that I want to miss my own pastor’s sermon.”

  “At least we record our service, so you could listen later. Calvary hasn’t stepped into the twenty-first century with the technology yet.” He smiled. “But I bet that’s about to change.”

  Janelle laughed lightly as they played their first cards.

  “By the way,” Travis said, “I’ve been getting calls about that Bible study you announced Sunday. People wa
nting to make sure they heard you right, that it’s at the diner and not the church.”

  Janelle’s face lit up. “Really?”

  She’d been praying for God to bless this. Sara Ann had tried to back out, just as Janelle had suspected she would, but Janelle asked again if she’d try it once before making a final decision. She didn’t tell Sara Ann she’d made an announcement at church. She would’ve felt too bad for her if no one showed up.

  A long beep sounded on the machine, and Sylvia came in to change the fluid.

  “How we doing, Miss Geri? Ready for a trip to the ladies’ room?”

  Grandma laid the card down that she was about to play. “I think I better.”

  Sylvia helped her up, then pushed the IV pole with her as they made their way to the restroom.

  Travis crossed a leg over his knee and looked at Janelle. “How’s your cousin?” he said.

  “Which one?” Janelle smiled at him.

  “All right, make me say it. Libby.”

  “She’s good. Busy.”

  Travis was quiet a moment. “Is she coming to Hope Springs this weekend?”

  “I don’t think so. I was surprised she could be here for Todd and Becca’s surprise party. The weekends are usually her busiest times.”

  He glanced away, then looked back at Janelle. “I was thinking about inviting her to church, but I don’t want her to feel that I’m pushing or anything.”

  “She won’t come. And she probably would feel like you’re pushing. But since when would you let that stop you?”

  Travis smiled slightly. “Good point. But I don’t know . . .”

  “Why were you thinking about inviting her?”

  Travis was hesitant. “Did she tell you?”

  “About the two of you?” At his nod, she said, “Yes.”

  “She’s always been special to me, Janelle. Even in my selfish college mind-set, she was special. My only thought in inviting her was that maybe the Lord would meet her there. I just care. You know?”

  Janelle couldn’t be more proud to call him her pastor. “Then do what you’re led to do.”

  “Up there.” Janelle pointed. “Cabinet on the right.”

  Kory followed her finger and found the home for the plates he’d just dried.

  “I don’t know why you won’t let me help, Kory.” Janelle watched from the kitchen table. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Oh no.” He dried another two plates and put them away. “I couldn’t have you doubting my ability to clean up after myself too. This is a full-service deal.”

  Janelle put her chin on her hands. “You don’t have to worry about me doubting your skills in the kitchen ever again—cooking or cleaning. You’re the man.”

  He turned and bowed. “Why, thank you. I think we can call this mission accomplished.”

  She got up. “Not until I get one more sliver of this cheesecake. It really is incredible.”

  “Better save some for the next time Libby comes. She requested it, you know.” He covered the leftover vegetables and put them in the fridge.

  “Hmph. You might have to make another one. Even Tiffany and Daniel loved it, and they’re not big cheesecake fans. Stephanie’s ready to help you take it to market . . . and she means it.”

  “It was fun cooking for your family.” He smiled at her. “Even more fun surprising you.”

  She carried her dessert plate back to the table. “You certainly did that.”

  After Grandma Geri’s chemo, they’d returned to a house permeated with the aroma of pot roast, potatoes, and green beans. Kory had hipped Stephanie to his surprise, and she’d let him bring his grocery bags and take over the kitchen. Grandma Geri said the roast melted in her mouth, which was saying a lot coming from the family’s master chef.

  He transferred what was left of the pot roast into a covered dish and put that in the fridge too, then filled the roasting pan with sudsy water. “This needs to soak for a little while,” he said.

  Janelle savored the last bit of her sliver. “And you need to sit and relax for a while.” She thought a minute. Tiffany, Dee, and Daniel were in the family room watching Toy Story 3 with Stephanie and Aunt Gladys. Grandma Geri had gone to her room to lie down. She put her plate in the sink, saying, “Don’t touch it. I’ll wash it later,” and led him to the living room.

  “Ahh.” Kory sank into the sofa cushion. “Hadn’t realized how long I’d been on my feet.”

  Janelle sat next to him, mindful to put several inches between them. They’d had little time alone—and even now they weren’t alone—but she hadn’t forgotten how Kory could make her feel.

  Kory sat forward suddenly, reaching for something on the coffee table. “This yours?”

  Janelle looked closely at the iPod, since she and Grandma Geri both had one. “Yes, that one’s mine. Must’ve left it there after I went walking.”

  “You can tell a lot about a person by what’s on her iPod.”

  “Oh, really.”

  “Absolutely.”

  He manipulated the dial and perused her playlists. “Kirk, Fred, Mandisa, Nicole C. . . .” He nodded, as if he would expect these. “Natalie Grant, MercyMe, Mary Mary, CeCe, of course—who’s Alex Williams?”

  “Praise and worship leader at my home church. You should check out his album.”

  “Cool. Hey . . . I see a playlist with my boys. What you know about Da’ T.R.U.T.H., Lecrae, Flame, Alien, Ambassador, and all them?”

  “Are you serious? You love them too?”

  “Saw Alien and Kelli in Charlotte last summer. Unbelievable concert. Okay, what’s the Quiet Storm playlist?”

  “It’s a D.C. thing. The Quiet Storm on Howard University radio, WHUR. Old slow jams.”

  “The radio station might be a D.C. thing, but these are my cuts.” He brought the iPod closer. “Con Funk Shun, Commodores, L.T.D., René & Angela, wow—Atlantic Starr. I haven’t heard ‘Am I Dreamin’?’ in I don’t know how long.” He put the earbuds in and pushed the play button, his head bopping slowly side to side.

  “That’s one of my favorites. Let me hear.” Janelle took the bud from his left ear and inched closer so she could put it in hers.

  Their shoulders swayed slowly together in time. And at the chorus, they simultaneously sang, “Am I dreamin’? Am I just imagining you’re here in my life?”

  They looked at one another, smiling as she continued with the female lead and he with the male. She swatted his arm when the song ended. “Why didn’t you tell me you could sing? You’re full of surprises.”

  “I didn’t know you could either.” He donned a playful grin. “Let me find another duet for us.” He scrolled through the list. “Ohhh. Anita Baker with Chapter 8? That’s, like, top ten old school slow jam.”

  “Easily.” Just don’t play it.

  “I’ve got to play this.”

  “Weren’t you looking for a duet?”

  “Yep, saw a good one. Luther and Cheryl Lynn. But first I have to hear this.”

  He pressed his thumb on the button. “I Just Wanna Be Your Girl” began to play. In her mind’s eye, Janelle was in her dorm room at the University of Maryland, listening to the radio at night. This was a Quiet Storm favorite, and after that weekend with Kory, he was all she thought about when she heard it.

  Her eyes closed as she listened, as the words reverberated in her eighteen-year-old heart.

  Kory touched her hand. “You okay?”

  She opened her eyes and a single tear fell. She swiped it quickly.

  “A memory of David?”

  She almost felt guilty that it wasn’t. “Um, no. But I’m fine.”

  He took his earbud out and shifted toward her. “I’m supposed to believe that? What’re you thinking about?”

  She took hers out too and sighed. “The song brought back memories. Freshman year, first semester.”

  “Freshman year, first semester? Oh, so you got on campus and some guy stole your heart?”

  “Before I got on campus.” She
looked into his eyes. “You were my first kiss, Kory.”

  He stared at her for long seconds, his eyes soft. “And you wanted to be my girl?”

  She looked away.

  “Janelle—”

  She waved the subject away. “It’s silly, just . . . let’s move on.”

  “That’s what I wanted too.”

  Janelle turned toward him again. “So maybe, if it weren’t for the missed phone calls and messages . . .” She shook off the speculation. “Wouldn’t have worked anyway. We were too young and too far apart.”

  “Interesting that all these years later, here we are right beside each other.”

  “Yes, I’d say it’s . . . interesting.”

  A month ago she’d wondered if she could ever move on from David. She still thought about him daily, something he might say to the kids, an inside joke only the two of them would get. She thought her heart would never be drawn to another man. And she still doubted it could—to any man except this one.

  He looked deeper into her eyes. “It could still happen, Janelle. It’s not too late.”

  She got up and walked a few feet away. “I can’t, Kory. I can’t even entertain the thought, not while you’re still married.”

  “Janelle . . .” He came to her. “I’m ‘married’ to a woman who’s engaged to another man. They’re tying the knot in less than a month, right after our court hearing. I don’t see anything wrong with admitting . . .” He turned her face back with his finger. “With admitting I care about you. I like you. I love getting to know you.”

  “I love getting to know you too, as a friend. That’s what we were sticking to, remember?”

  Kory locked eyes with her and smiled.

  “What?”

  “The irony. That’s why I wanted you to be my girl. Because you’re different. You’re special.”

  Janelle thought she might melt under his gaze. Though she’d skipped quickly past it, she’d heard his words loud and clear. He’d said it could still happen . . .

  As resolved as she was to toe the line with him, it was hard to stop her heart from keeping a calendar, counting the days until he was officially free.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE