by Gail Sattler
Molly yanked her hands away. He was also her boss.
He took her withdrawal in stride. One scrap of paper at a time, they paged through her Bible and removed all her markers and read her notes, and he explained everything in an easy to understand manner.
The evening passed quickly, as it had the last time he’d visited. As soon as he noticed the late time, Ken apologized and headed to the door.
Molly clasped her hands in front of her. This night was truly special in ways that she couldn’t begin to list. Not that she did a lot of talking, but praying out loud with Ken gave her prayers a special emphasis and created a bond with Ken like she’d never experienced with anyone. “Thank you for doing this with me. I’ll never forget this night. Is there anything I can do to show you how much I appreciate this?”
Ken smiled, and he grasped her hands. “Yes, there is. Something unexpected came up for Saturday, so I can’t do the tourist thing with you. But I’d love it if you came to church with me on Sunday.”
Molly gulped. She had gone to church with Gwen, Robbie, and Garrett last week, and she’d promised to go again with them the coming weekend. However, since Ken was apparently hesitant about going to his new church alone, she felt obligated to go with him. She supposed her friends wouldn’t mind. They would simply be pleased that she was going.
Molly allowed Ken to lead her from his church’s foyer toward the sanctuary, where they stood in the entranceway while she got her bearings.
The grand, old, stone building sported a majestic vaulted ceiling that took her breath away. Stained glass windows and carved images of Jesus in the stations of the cross adorned the walls, adding a touch of history to the grandeur. Rows and rows of wooden pews filled the large room. In the corner, an elderly lady played a massive pipe organ, the old style very much in keeping with the rest of the surroundings.
The somber organ music echoed softly, and the murmur of low voices could be heard as people shuffled into their seats. Molly thought she’d seen something like this on the history channel, depicting some of the classic old churches in Europe. The Old World majesty and beauty of Ken’s uncle’s church was unlike any building she’d ever seen before, much less been inside. She could feel God’s presence in this magnificent place.
All the people she saw milling about radiated money. Most were older, many old enough to be her parents. This morning she’d chosen a rather dressy outfit because she knew Ken would be wearing a suit. Every man in the congregation wore a traditional suit and tie, and every woman was dressed in the same style. She had made the right choice. She wasn’t overdressed at all.
Ken gently touched the small of her back as they ventured into the sanctuary, and spoke softly. “I don’t know anyone here yet. I was introduced to some of the people last week, but I really wasn’t in any frame of mind to be sociable.”
Molly forced herself to smile and nodded. So far the worst injury she’d ever sustained was a sprained ankle from her first and last attempt at skiing when Gwen dragged her up to Whistler Mountain for a weekend last winter. She couldn’t imagine actually breaking a bone.
In addition to the broken arm, she could only imagine how bumped and bruised he had been from the fall down the stairs. She wondered, if it were her, whether she would have even gone to church so soon.
Mr. Quinlan and his wife walked in, waved to them, and sat down about halfway up the aisle.
“There’s Uncle Walter and Aunt Ellen. Don’t worry. I know it’s awkward for you. They don’t expect us to sit with them. Let’s sit over there.”
Molly gulped. She didn’t know how she was supposed to function in the same social setting as her boss. She gritted her teeth and told herself that she wasn’t here to socialize. She was here only to worship God, and so were they.
Molly nodded and followed Ken to an open spot very close to the back row. She slid in first, which ensured that she sat at Ken’s right side. When they were as comfortable as possible on the hard wooden seats, she continued to study the sanctuary.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
It was past impressive, it was breathtaking. She continued to stare at the polished wooden ceiling and the massive, dangling crystal light fixtures.
While she was still staring at the chandeliers, the lights dimmed and the volume of the organ lowered. The minister stepped forward and greeted the congregation, which Molly guessed to be about 350 people, with the seating capacity about three-quarters filled. After a short prayer, everyone reached forward to pull their hymnals from wooden pockets in the backs of the pews in front. The people turned to the correct page, the volume of the organ increased, and the congregation began to sing. A few people sang in harmony, and it sounded wonderful.
Molly didn’t know any of the hymns, and she didn’t know how to read music, so she did her best to follow Ken, who sang beautifully. The majesty of the building and the Old World sounds of the timeless music filled Molly with a sense of awe and reverence for God’s glory as they continued with a few more selections.
When they were done, the room echoed with the sounds of everyone closing the hymnals at the same time and muffled thuds of their being tucked back into the slots. Molly expected a small disturbance as the children were dismissed, as happened last week when she went to Robbie’s church, but the minister started right into his sermon.
Molly tried to look around discreetly then leaned to whisper into Ken’s ear. “Where are the kids?”
He leaned to whisper back. “There aren’t many here. Most of the congregation is the same age as my aunt and uncle, but the kids go downstairs to children’s church before the service begins.”
“Oh.”
The room was completely silent except for the odd shuffle as the minister began his sermon. Molly listened intently. He spoke on faith and how faith was proved by action.
“When the waters became rough, the disciples feared the boat would sink in the storm. They saw Jesus, and Jesus was walking on the water. And they believed. But, who was the one man who had enough faith to step out onto the choppy seas?”
Molly grabbed Ken’s arm. “I know the answer to that one!” she whispered to him. She didn’t know if she was supposed to raise her arm, and since this wasn’t a classroom, she didn’t. “Peter!” she called out loudly enough for the pastor to hear all the way at the front of the large room.
The people in front of her flinched at the sound of her voice. Ken’s arm stiffened beneath her touch. The minister stopped talking, and about half the congregation turned to stare.
Molly felt her face flame as the silence dragged.
The minister cleared his throat. “Uh, that’s correct. It was indeed Peter.”
At his confirmation of the correct answer, a few more people turned to stare. The minister waited for everyone’s attention to return to the podium before he continued speaking.
Molly clasped her hands tightly in her lap and listened in silence. If he didn’t want anyone to answer questions, why did he ask? The man continued with his sermon, delivering a good solid message, and the congregation sat still, soaking in every word, except for one man who started to doze until his wife poked him.
They sang one more hymn at the conclusion of the service, and everyone quietly filed out of the sanctuary into the foyer, where small groups of people stood, engaged in different conversations.
“You must be Walter’s nephew. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last week. Welcome.” The pastor turned to Molly. “I’m Pastor Gregory. Welcome to St. Augustine’s.”
“Hi. I’m Molly McNeil. I’m with Ken.” Molly adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder and shuffled her Bible back and forth between her hands while she waited for him to say something about the way she’d shouted out in the middle of the service.
Pastor Gregory simply smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you, Molly. Would you and Ken like to join my wife and me, Ken’s aunt and uncle, along with a few other people at our home for lunch?”
Thankfully, Ken didn�
��t answer. He looked at her, and Molly took that to mean that he was leaving the decision up to her.
“No, not this time, but thanks for asking.” She didn’t want to lie and say she was busy and hoped he wouldn’t insist, because she really had no reason to turn down the invitation except for debilitating fear.
He smiled. “Another time, then. If you’ll excuse me …” He glanced back and forth between herself and Ken, then left to join another group of people.
Ken’s hand touched the small of her back. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
She didn’t need a second invitation. They were out the door without another word.
“Where would you like to go for lunch?” he asked as he fished the car keys out of his pocket.
Molly didn’t know much about church life, but she did know that her friends who went to church regularly commonly went out for lunch following the service, whether it was to a restaurant or to someone’s house. She did want to go out for lunch, but she felt a little overwhelmed by the whole experience. “I don’t know. Where do you want to go?”
His ears reddened. “I’m actually not all that familiar with the restaurants around here. I was hoping you could pick something …,” he glanced down at his cast, “… appropriate.”
Guilt washed through her. Just as when they went out to lunch from work, their choice of menus was severely limited to things that could be eaten with one hand, and things that didn’t need to be cut.
“I don’t know this area of town, so I don’t know what the restaurants around here serve. How about if you come to my place, and I’ll make us something?”
His face brightened. “Sure. I’d like that.”
Molly chose grilled cheese sandwiches and fries. Not only was it very much finger food, it was also one of the few things she had enough of on hand to feed two people.
After a short prayer of thanks, Molly poured a blob of ketchup onto her plate, then pushed the bottle across the table.
Ken nibbled one fry without the addition of condiments. “What did you think?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve only been to church twice before, and this was really different.”
“Every church is somewhat different. Most churches tend to be a combination of the personality of the pastor and a reflection of the lifestyle of the congregation.”
“I guess that makes sense. I didn’t know Mr. Quin … uh, your uncle, was a Christian. That’s really neat.”
“Most of my family are Christians.”
“You’re so lucky. Most of my family think I’m kinda nuts.”
His eyes twinkled, and one corner of his mouth turned upwards, fighting an all-out grin. “Kinda? Can I reserve judgment?”
Molly let her mouth drop open. She’d never heard Ken make a flippant reply before, and didn’t know what to think.
She lowered her head and dipped a fry into the blob of ketchup on her plate, then twirled it into a design. “No comment.”
He didn’t reply but continued to grin across the table.
“So what was your church like back home?”
“Very similar.”
“Tell me all about it. Where you come from, your family, how you grew up? What do you do for fun?”
“Fun?”
“When you’re not working, what do you do?”
He smiled. “I like to cycle.”
“Cycle?” Molly couldn’t imagine anything more boring. Even though she wasn’t into attempting physically challenging sports, she had tried skiing. Last summer she had made a few camping trips with her friends. “You mean, like, on a bicycle?”
“That’s usually what cycling is, Molly. Riding a bicycle.”
She tried to imagine him on a bicycle. From what she’d seen so far, she doubted it was an ordinary bike like hers. Rather than her usual fare of cutoffs and a T-shirt, his clothing probably matched the bike.
“I’ll bet you wear those special shorts with the padded seat, don’t you?”
His ears turned red. “Of course.”
“I hear the area around Winnipeg is really flat. You’re going to be in for a big surprise when you try to cycle here in Vancouver, where it’s really hilly.”
He smiled. “Oh, I’m used to the hills. My last trip, I went to Idaho.”
Molly choked on her milk. “You took your bike to Idaho?”
“Yes. That’s where we decided to go this past summer.”
“We?”
“A group of college friends. Before I left, we talked about meeting halfway on the Trans Canada Highway next summer, then heading south, probably from Calgary. You don’t happen to cycle, do you?”
She’d never made it out of the metropolis of Greater Vancouver and the surrounding suburbs, never mind hundreds of miles. She couldn’t imagine it. “Where do you sleep?”
“We camp along the way.”
Molly could see she’d greatly underestimated him. The first time they’d met she thought he looked quite physically fit, and now she knew why.
He told her about a few of his long cycling trips and some of the things that happened along the way, both funny and frightening, earning him a great measure of respect in her eyes. The contrast between “Ken the Professional” and “Ken the Adventurer” astonished her and combined into a fascinating package. She would never underestimate him again.
Time disappeared quickly, and they only realized it was suppertime when Molly’s stomach grumbled. Rather than stop in the middle of sharing their stories, they ordered pizza as they continued talking. Before she knew it, it was nearly midnight.
Molly escorted Ken to the door. Even though he still appeared comfortable after being in his suit all day, Molly was sagging. Her skirt hung limp, her blouse was hopelessly wrinkled, and her hair had fallen out of the clip long ago. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat and talked for so long with one person. Maybe she never had, but she had thoroughly enjoyed every minute.
She opened the door and stood in the doorway.
“Thanks for today, Ken. I know that sounded lame, but I don’t know what else to say. I had a really nice time. I really enjoyed going to your church too.”
He smiled. “That’s great. Next Sunday we can go to your church.”
“Uh, I guess so.”
He stepped closer; his eyes darkened and his expression softened. He lifted his hand, gently brushing the backs of his fingers to her cheek, then rested two fingers under her chin.
Molly’s heart started to pound, both fearing and anticipating what was going to happen next.
His voice came out low and gravelly. “Good night, Molly.” He tipped her chin up and tilted his head. As his head lowered, his eyes drifted shut.
Molly couldn’t stop herself. As much as she knew it was a bad idea, she wanted him to kiss her.
And he did. His kiss was soft and gentle and chaste, and much too short.
Briefly, when they separated, he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, then released her as he backed up a step.
He turned, and without saying another word, he walked away.
Chapter 7
Kenneth? Is that you?”
“Yes, Aunt Ellen, it’s me. Sorry to wake you.”
They’d left the lights on, and he had been as quiet as possible when he came in, leaving him to suspect that his aunt was waiting up for him.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping.” Ken’s eyebrows raised at the sight of his aunt, already walking down the stairway, bundled in her housecoat and wearing her big fuzzy slippers. “You’re certainly out late. I was beginning to worry.”
“Sorry. We lost track of the time.” Ken tried to keep a straight face. He’d never lost track of time like he had today. As well, he usually didn’t talk about himself so much, but Molly, full of innocent questions, kept pumping him for more. He didn’t know who had been more embarrassed when Molly’s stomach grumbled the need for supper: her, because of the surprise, or him, because he should have kept track of the time and been more
courteous.
After they’d eaten, they hadn’t felt the march of time until he had had to fight back a yawn.
“I saw you at church with the receptionist. It was nice to see you bring her to church, especially after what happened.”
Now Ken really had to struggle not to smile. He could feel Aunt Ellen’s unasked hints for more information hanging above his head. He simply nodded.
“She looked so ill at ease. You two left so quickly. One minute you were there, the next minute you were gone.”
“That was only the third church service she’s been to in her life. She’s a new believer, and it’s all quite new to her.”
Aunt Ellen raised one eyebrow. He could almost imagine a neon question mark hovering above her head. “I was worried that you’d had an accident or something.”
He couldn’t help it. Ken laughed. “Why don’t you just ask me if I spent the day with Molly and what we did?”
She had the grace to blush, but said nothing.
Ken grinned, then winked at his aunt. “We had a nice day together, and that’s all I’m telling. Good night, Aunt Ellen.”
He climbed the stairs and went to bed, but he didn’t fall asleep. All he could do was stare at the ceiling. Over and over, he went over his day with Molly. Normally she dressed casually for work, but he imagined she’d worn her best outfit to church. She may have looked prim and proper first thing in the morning, but by the time the day was over, she’d been charmingly crinkled and her hair delightfully mussed. She’d enchanted him even more, the messier she became.
But, his aunt’s words had been a poignant reminder. Molly was the receptionist, an employee. So far, it hadn’t been important, but today, things had changed. He knew it hadn’t been wise, but he’d kissed her, and she hadn’t exactly pushed him away.
He couldn’t help but like her. He’d only meant to disciple and help her on the way to becoming well-grounded in her faith, but they’d become distracted and talked about so many things he couldn’t begin to recall them all. He’d had a wonderful time, and it seemed only natural to kiss her. Then when she responded, it was all he could do to back away.
