“Okay, so we aren’t perfect. What do you suggest?”
Ben reaches for the water once again. “What did Will say?”
My breathing comes out as small jags of emotion. “To give him space.”
“Men need time to process. Let him pray and figure things out. I’ve never seen Will hold a grudge. I’m sure you’ll see him ready to talk sooner than later.” Ben sounds so confident, I can’t help but stand taller and find new energy as I stack more saucers.
But fear still lurks. “What if it takes him later?”
Ben starts to walk to the kitchen, but turns. “Then you can talk to him at church. I told him he better be there.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I could return to Gloversville early and avoid church. As soon as I wake, the excuses run through my mind faster than I ever have on a track. I don’t want to see Will, not during service when I’m not sure how he’s feeling toward me. But I’m also done dodging reality. If I leave, I miss time with Noah. And I still have to tell him that Will’s upset.
Running sounds easier.
Once I shower and dress, it’s time to chat with Noah. We don’t have a lot of time before church, and I pray the conversation doesn’t take a lot of directions I’m not ready for.
“Hey, Noah? Got a minute?” I knock three times on his bedroom door.
He opens it before I can wait for a reply. “What’s up?”
I make tentative steps to his bed, covered in clothes that I can’t discern are clean or dirty. He’s opening dresser drawers and then pulls out a pair of socks.
“There’s no easy way to say this but you deserve to know.” I glance over at the teen who seems more focused on putting on his socks. “Will and I are taking a little break.”
Noah drops the sock and raises his head. “You broke up?”
Yes. No. I don’t know.
“I believe Will needs some time to sort things out. But in no way does this affect you.”
He bends down and grabs the white footwear. “You sure? It’s going to be awkward.”
“Will isn’t like that at all. I thought I should tell you since I don’t plan to sit with him. It’s important to me to honor his wishes.”
“Whatever. Just tell me when things change. Can I ask a question?”
“Always.”
“Does this have anything to do with me? Or Dad?”
The gasp I hear is my own. “Absolutely not you. It’s about me not being as communicative and open as I could have been.”
He nods. “About Dad?”
“Okay. I’ll share a bit here, but make sure you’re ready for church. Betty’s probably heading to the car, waiting for us.”
Noah finishes putting on the socks and walks to the closet where he pulls out a pair of shoes. “Dad feels bad about abandoning you.”
I stand and work on navigating a clear path to the door. “He rejected both of us for a long time. But, he’s changed a lot. For the better. Still, I don’t see a future with him. Not a romantic one. And I wish I’d been more open about that fact with both of them.”
Noah’s right behind me. “Will’s good for you, Mom. I understand what you’re saying about Dad. I’m glad he’s in my life and all, but there’s something special about you and Will.”
This kid never ceases to amaze me. We walk together down the hall and find Betty in the kitchen, Bible in hand.
I put my arm around my son. “Thanks, Noah. Let’s pray Will and I can overcome this.”
Betty smiles as she heads for the door. “If anyone can beat the obstacles, it’s you.”
⌛⌛⌛
Before the small choir can sing a note, I march down the center aisle and make a beeline for the pew where Sara, Ben and Jenna sit. They move down and as the music track starts, Betty and I take our seats. Even when I glance around to see if Noah’s sitting with Brittany, there’s no sight of Will.
Jenna leans over and whispers into my ear. “We need to talk, girl.”
I clear my throat and open my bulletin, hoping she takes the hint that now isn’t a good time.
Ben places his hand in hers. “It can wait.”
Phew.
My eyes zoom in on the altar area and stay there through worship, announcements, and when Pastor Craig approaches the podium. If Will’s behind me in another pew, I’m unaware, but my hands shake just the same as I dig for a pencil to take notes.
“Today we’re talking about Lazarus and his resurrection.” Pastor Craig grips the lectern and smiles. “There are a lot of sermons to share when it comes to him. Take the grave clothes off, for one. Come forth is another. My focus is on Mary.”
Ah, Mary. The sister that sits at His feet. Anoints the Lord. Let’s see where this goes.
“We are in John, chapter eleven. Lazarus, definitely someone important to Jesus as he was referred to as ‘he whom You love,’ has taken sick and it’s serious enough that Mary and Martha send word to Jesus. Now, if Brooke and I were away for some reason and we received word that any of you were ill, I’d be back here without hesitation.”
I glance to Brooke, who nods.
“But not Jesus. He waits. When He finally journeys to Bethany, they’re informed Lazarus has been buried for four days. Forget sick or even recently deceased. He’s been prepared with oils, wrapped and entombed. Imagine the grief Mary and Martha must be feeling.”
What if this was Noah? Or Will? Goosebumps dot my arms.
“And Jesus shows up and wants to talk. Mary, the one who displayed such love for her Lord and He decides not to help save her brother. And He wants to talk to her? I’ve tried to place myself there and the emotions are so deep and charged, I can’t even begin to accurately picture it. But, there’s a song I remember hearing a few years back that tells the story so well.”
Jenna looks to me and shrugs.
“It’s a Southern Gospel song about Martha meeting up with Jesus. The questions, accusation, even. ‘Lord, if You had been here, my brother would be here, was the gist of it.” Jesus? He’s not offended. In fact, I believe He’s overcome with compassion and love. This family means a lot to Him. So, He asks to see the grave.”
As Pastor sets up the scene, I try to picture myself there. Mary’s reaction is exactly how I’d feel. Her question is one I ask a lot under less adversity, Lord, where are You?
“You know the miracle. Jesus, in His authority, proclaims that Lazarus come forth. And he does. Rotten linens attached to him, but he’s alive. Do you think anyone in that crowd cares how Lazarus looks or smells? Jesus brought the guy back from the dead. Where do you think Mary’s faith level is?”
Um, probably sky high.
“And where would it have been had Jesus shown up when Lazarus was only sick?” He walks away from the podium. “That’s the rub. At least for me it is. I want things easy. Who wants pain or suffering? No one I know. But sometimes Jesus allows a wait in our lives to teach us something we’d never learn without the hurt.”
Okay, I can relate to this. And I don’t like it.
“The song talked about Jesus being late. That’s how Martha saw it when Jesus finally reached her. But in His divine way, He wasn’t tardy. Can you come to the same conclusion with your situation? Are you waiting on a job interview or a doctor report? Friends, Christ is not late. He is right on time. Do you believe that?”
If Pastor Craig’s sermon were a symphony, his last line would have been a crescendo. “If you can relate, there’s grace available. Feel free to meet God right where you are, or come to the altar. Whatever you do, don’t leave feeling bitter because you think He didn’t show up on time.”
Even sitting up front, it takes time to reach the altar. A crowd gathers as Jay Maxwell plays the guitar quietly on stage.
Brooke is once again at my side without questions or judgement. “Father, help Carla put and keep her trust in You. Give her the strength to see things in Your way. Help her understand You aren’t late in meeting the desires of her heart. Thank You for being on time.”<
br />
Tears fall to the carpet because Brooke says exactly what I fear. I’ll stop trusting Him. Again. I’ll do it my way and mess everything up as I usually do. That I want to be patient in waiting for Will to come around, but I’m afraid he won’t.
She opens her eyes and gives me a hug, something I look forward to each week. “God knows your heart, Carla. How I wish you knew how much He loves you.”
I nod, unable to speak. The magnitude of His love and plan are too much.
Brooke squeezes my arm and moves to the next person. I close my eyes and continue to pray. When I finish, I attempt to quietly make it back to my seat, but I bump into someone deep in prayer with Pastor Craig.
Will.
⌛⌛⌛
Jenna ambushes me in the lobby after I quietly skirt past Will, and before I can find Betty and Noah to make a fast exit. “Why didn’t you tell me about Will?”
“It was your bridal shower. Your day. I wasn’t going to ruin your special day.”
She shakes her head. “You wouldn’t have. How can I help?”
Out of the corner of my eye I spot Will leaving the sanctuary and heading our way.
I bite my lip for a moment, then lean closer to my best friend. “Pray for me.”
Jenna gives me a quick hug as Will approaches. God bless her, she stays.
“Will, hi.” My smile feels as flat as my hair.
He also manages a grin, albeit not a very wide one. “Hey, Jenna. Carla.” No hug. No handshake. Nothing. “Good service, right?’
Jenna nods. “Pastor Craig always has wisdom for us.” She glances at me. “So, I’m sure you two need to talk without me in the middle. Carla, call me. Will, see you around.” She’s gone before I can beg her to stay.
My heartbeat threatens to implode as my body seems to shut down one system at a time. With a dry throat, I attempt to speak. “I’m so sorry.”
He holds up his hand. “I know, but I’m still not ready. I’m stuck on the fact it took you so long to choose, and then you lied. It hurts, Carla.” His voice squeaks when he says my name.
Even swallowing doesn’t help. It’s like someone massaged my tonsils with sandpaper.
“But I won’t leave you in a lurch with Noah. I’ll still help out. That’s all I wanted to say.” He turns and makes his way to the exit, the faint trail of his cologne lasting longer than our conversation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The smell of bacon is the only reason I’m semi-quick rising out of bed when the alarm rings. It’s the first day back to school, and my heart feels like an anchor dragging everything else in my life down.
“Good morning, Carla. I thought you’d need some extra fuel with your schedule today. I know it’s a long day for you after a pretty intense weekend. I have bacon, toast, and blueberry pancakes.” Betty even wears a faded floral apron as she does her work. My childhood dream came true to have someone make a breakfast overflowing with love.
“This is amazing.” I walk over and give her a hug. “Betty, you’re outstanding.”
She rolls her eyes and spreads a slab of butter on a piece of toast.
“Can I ask you something?” I reach for a few slices of bacon to add to my pancake plate.
“Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”
“What will you do when I graduate?” The maple syrup spreads all over my pancakes.
Betty stops for a moment as if she were pondering my question. “Honestly, I haven’t given it a lot of thought. I’ve had boarders before, but none that I’ve grown as close to as you. It won’t be the same without you around.”
I savor the bacon before cutting a piece of the moist pancake with my fork. “Whatever you do, I hope you won’t be a stranger.”
⌛⌛⌛
Brandi smiles, glances down at the desk and quickly looks back my way once I walk past her.
“Good morning?” The phone rings, but she holds up a manicured finger before I can sprint away. Once Brandi completes the call she tilts her head as if she were inspecting me. “You okay, Carla?”
Probably those puffy eyes of mine.
“It was a long weekend. I’m ready to focus on classes and application.”
She takes a sip of her drink and raises that same finger. “Wait! That reminds me, I’m supposed to give you this hand-out.”
I step back to the desk and take the paper. “What’s this?”
“Hours that the salon is open to the public and the way you get your clinical hours in. Starts for you in June.”
The paper suddenly feels like a brick. It’s one thing to work on the mannequin heads. But to finally give perms, tapered cuts and complicated colors to real people makes this feel a lot more real than I’m ready for.
With paper in hand, I make my way upstairs to the classroom.
Daniel’s already there stirring his coffee when he spots me. “Do you know how bad your eyes look?”
I dump my backpack, purse and the paper on my desk. “How many times do I have to tell you that even with perfect hair skills, you won’t have any clients with a personality like yours?”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just, wow. You look like you have a horrible hangover or something.”
“Not quite. I really don’t want to talk much about it. I’ll leave it at Will doesn’t want to see me right now.” Just saying his name hurts my heart.
Daniel sits next to me. “Hey, Carla. I’m sorry. I hope it works out. Really.”
If I think too hard about it, tears will take over. I manage a small smile. “See? Now that’s the kind of compassion that will give you a great reputation.”
Sandy, Mitzi, Ella and Claire follow Rose into the room. Before Daniel can reply, Rose introduces the new unit.
“It’s usually at this point students feel overwhelmed, wondering ‘when does all this end?’ Les and I schedule this unit here as a bit of a break. The lessons are still important and something you’ll use often, but a switch from constant hair techniques. Any guesses?” Rose slides her glasses down her nose and scans the crowd.
Mitzi raises her hand. “Business items?”
Rose shakes her head. “No, we save that for last.”
Sandy plays with her pencil as she smirks. “Weaves?”
I try to picture the bulk of our year ‘round Speculator Falls residents, many senior citizens, who would request hair extensions or weaves.
“No, but artificial hair is coming up soon. Anyone else?”
Claire looks around and then raises her hand. “Facials?”
Rose nods. “That’s right. Let’s talk about facials and then learn how to create and apply ones that will have your clients raving.”
⌛⌛⌛
Before we break for lunch, Rose invites us to try different facials. Some are from high-end salons, some from department stores, and she even said a few were mixes she’d found on Pinterest. When we decide to eat together at the hot dog shop, my skin feels like a smooth, cool winter’s afternoon thanks to the Pinterest mix I rinsed off.
Daniel opens the door for us. “Claire, what kind did you use?”
She swings her purse as she walks past him. “I, um, kind of made my own concoction. Rose said it was okay. She’s going to try it while we’re gone. It’s something I play around with at home.”
Sandy looks to me and shrugs.
Mitzi picks up her pace to catch up with Claire. “You know, maybe this is an answer for you.”
Daniel also jogs so he can join us as we walk the two blocks to the shop.
Claire slows down. “What do you mean?”
“A lot of salons offer more than one service. Maybe there would be one that would want someone to provide facials and makeup. Perhaps that’s what you’re meant to do.”
Daniel nods. “That’s true, especially if you’re in a bigger city.”
Claire sighs. “Let’s see what Rose says. She might hate what I’ve done.” Another sigh. “Like everything else I’ve tried so far. But, if she lo
ves it, it’s something to consider.”
Daniel clears his throat. “Lake George is a perfect place for your talents.”
Ella smiles and nudges me. “Daniel, isn’t that where you’re based?”
Mitzi, Sandy and I share a giggle as we walk inside. Although neither Claire nor Daniel answer Ella, she does sit next to him.
“So, Ella. When are you letting Claire color your hair?” Sandy asks as she inspects her silverware.
“Tonight. My husband is working late and the kids are with friends. I’m excited.”
Claire coughs. “Thanks again, Ella, for volunteering.” She turns to Daniel. “And to you for offering to help me.”
Daniel nods. “No problem. You’re going to get the hang of everything.” He winks in Claire’s direction. “I promise.”
It’s a look I recognize and my throat feels like it’s closing in. Last year Will winked and nudged me during Ben’s barbeque. It was the start of looking at him as more than a friend.
“Carla. You okay?”
I blink several times and realize Ella’s waving her hand in front of me. “Sorry. I was thinking about something.”
Mitzi leans in. “Anything you want to talk about?”
I purse my lips as I think about how much I want to share when the waitress appears. Once she takes our orders and leaves, I sigh. “My mind’s on overload. Will and I had a rough weekend and things are up in the air.”
Even Mitzi, the constant smile amongst us, frowns when I explain.
“Dude, that’s terrible.” Sandy finally puts the fork down on the napkin.
Ella’s voice is softer than usual. “I hope you two can work it out. A good relationship is hard to find.”
I nod and glance at Daniel. Is he wondering if she’s talking about her own life? Because I am.
“Thanks, everyone. He’s asked for some time. I messed things up. He’s hurting.” Each word becomes harder to speak as my throat continues to constrict.
Sandy leans back as the waitress arrives with our meals. “Don’t give him too much time.”
“What’s too much?” Mitzi reaches for a French fry.
“I don’t know but out of sight, out of mind.”
Entangled: Surrendering the Past (Surrendering Time Book 2) Page 14
