by Caryl McAdoo
“Oh, uh, like at a nightclub?”
“We call them honky-tonks, but yeah, a nightclub.”
“What kind of establishment is it?”
She laughed. “The place I’m thinking about doesn’t have chicken wire up to protect the band like some of them. It’s really more a supper club than a true honky-tonk, but every time I’ve gone, the band’s been better than average.”
He grabbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Might not be a good idea. Besides, I don’t even know how to two-step.”
She nodded. Of course he didn’t. He was a Baptist preacher. “Might take me ten minutes to show you; it’ll be fun.”
For a few seconds, he seemed to be engaged in an internal debate, then he smiled. “What time?”
“Six? Or whenever you can get here.”
“What should I wear?”
“Jeans. Wranglers if you’ve got ‘em. And footwear? Anything with leather on the bottom, hard to scoot on rubber soles. Your boots’ll be fine.” She pointed her finger gun at him. “No neck ties. The owner’ll make a big deal of cutting it off if you show up with one.”
“You planning on teaching me right there in front of everyone? I was thinking more of dinner and a movie.”
“It really is easy to learn, probably no one could even tell, but I guess we could practice a little in the barn when you get back if you’re more comfortable with that. And if you decide against it and want to see a flick, that’s fine with me, too. Boot Scootin’ done right keeps a goodly amount of room between the dancers. I never saw anything wrong with it if you keep it clean. Bible talks plenty about dancing, doesn’t it? Didn’t David dance?”
“He did. Before the ark when he was bringing it back to Jerusalem, but I don’t think he was scootin’ any boots.”
She laughed, and he joined her. “No, probably not. Whatever you decide. I’ll call Auntie and be ready when you get here.”
SIX
Mid afternoon it hit Faith. She missed him. What was that? Had she fallen into a wormhole and been retroactively transformed into a seventh grader who’d fallen madly into like with the new boy? Well, so, what if she was? After all, if the new guy happened to be Asa Davidson, what wasn’t to like?
For sure and certain he worked hard and was plenty smart. He caught on fast as a thoroughbred out of the gate, and was better than average looking. That the man professed to be a Christian who loved God enough to remain pure in a world that no longer expected it would be enough of its own to win her praise and admiration.
Some might call him a geek for that. It had to have been hard. Maybe growing up with boys only probably helped a lot. Her own choice of purity had been almost an afterthought. It hadn’t so much been that she meant to remain a virgin forever, but once she got past high school without any mishaps, that’s when she really made God a promise. Had it been similar for him?
While she finished the day’s chores, she tossed that around some.
As though Aunt Iris didn’t have anything else to do—and she probably didn’t—she arrived early and took it upon herself to start a load of laundry, while Faith got herself all gussied up for her date. At ten until six, her favorite old maid in the world stuck her head in. “Hey, sweetie.”
“Hey yourself, and thanks for starting that laundry. Did you see the roast I put on this morning?”
“Smelled it long before I saw it, but yesiree, I surely did. You’re a darlin’!”
“I was planning on a salad and some of those frozen yeast rising rolls Daddy loves.” She smiled. “They’ve been out long enough. Preheat the oven, and they’ll only take like twenty minutes.”
“Sounds good. So tell me, tell me. How’s it been going? What are you thinking? You know how inquiring minds want to know; and know it all. Don’t leave anything out.”
“I take it you’re talking about Asa?”
“Well now, who else would I be talking about? It isn’t everyday God sends me the answer to my prayers in the flesh practically the same day I prayed. I mean, I think he’s just perfect! A preacher! Don’t you think he’s just the cat’s meow?” She smiled and raised her eyebrows and wiggled them all up and down.
Yes, just like seventh grade, except instead of her mother, Auntie that wanted all the information about her latest beau. “Well, he’s a hard worker.”
“Great, that’s good. Growing up an orphan, I wasn’t sure about his work ethic. What else? I know that’s not all.”
“You’re such a goof, Auntie.” Faith shook her head. “He’s easy to be with, found myself missing him this afternoon after he left. He’s pretty quiet, isn’t in love with the sound of his own voice.”
“I’ll have you know, sugar, it isn’t the least bit goofy to want to hear every little detail. A quiet man is often a strong man. That’s good, too. What else?”
“I don’t know. It’s only been a day and half.”
“Has he kissed you yet?”
“Auntie.”
“Don’t Auntie me, answer my question. It’s perfectly legitimate.”
Of course she couldn’t lie. Why fight it? The old darlin’ would never let it die until she knew every smidge. “Actually, I’ve kissed him twice, but nothing long and slurpy, just soft and sweet. Almost barely a brush.”
“Ooooo, that’s just wonderful. Tell me every detail. Has he told you he loved you yet?”
“Aunt Iris, you are incorrigible. No, he has not.” Best she could, Faith gave her daddy’s baby sister a blow by blow account of how the man tricked her into kissing him that first night. “Can you believe he said it was his first ever?”
“Wow, I’d say no. But. He is a preacher after all, so I wouldn’t think he’d say such a thing if it weren’t true. Bless God. Now that’s really something. Well, he loves you then. Has to for sure. So that first night, two kisses?”
Faith laughed. “Oh, my goodness. One each night when he left. The second night, he wanted one so bad, I just couldn’t tell him no. He’d worked so hard, bless his heart.” She hiked her near shoulder. “I’ve been thinking I ought to stop. See how it affects him.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“There was this doctor on one of my shows. I can’t remember which one right now, but anyway, he said if you want to be happy, find a soul mate, someone that you’re compatible with, and marry that person. Even if passion fades, and according to him it does, you’ll still be happy. He said so many people mistake being in lust for love.”
Leaning toward her mirror, Faith colored her lips with a light gloss then leaned back and studied the total package. He hadn’t seen her yet with her hair down. “Okay, what does that have to do with me not kissing him anymore?”
“Who’s being goofy now? Friends don’t treat friends that way.” The old dear’s face took on a concerned expression. “You do find him attractive, right?”
“Yes, of course, other than being a townie, but yesterday after a hard day’s work he looked real good all smudged and sweaty.”
“Good, that’s another thing the doctor said about physical attraction being so important. And believe me, I think you two are perfect for each other.”
“So you think I should keep on kissing him?”
“Well, of course you should! He’s taking you out and everything. You can’t tell him no tonight, especially if you already gave him a kiss the past two nights. Maybe you ought to slurp it up some tonight. You know, kind of like a reward. You look like a million dollars, by the way.”
“Thanks, and you might be right, Auntie. I just don’t know. What if he’s not the one, I don’t want to hurt him. I mean it sort of freaked me out to know he’d never even kissed a girl. So maybe I shouldn’t really encourage him too much right now.” She retrieved her green satin jacket and slipped it on.
“Oh, sweetie, that’s just perfect.” The window glowed. “Looks like he’s here, right on time. I like punctual men. Don’t you?”
Faith laughed. She did and had already given him a plus that morning,
then handed over her daddy’s pain pills. “No more than two, and thanks Auntie, you matchmaker you.” She found her father in his chair, napping. She blew him a kiss then whispered. “Night, Daddy. See you in the morning.”
She waited on the porch. Asa jumped out of his car and raced up the steps. Bless God, it was middle school all over again.
He stopped short of her, his mouth frozen open, and seemed to devour her with his eyes. “Oh, Faith, you are so beautiful. That dress and your hair, oh, wow.”
She loved it, and could definitely get used to all his sweet compliments. But did she love the man? Or was Auntie’s doctor right? Was love overrated? She took both of his hands and pulled him close then pressed her lips against his. He leaned in, but didn’t try to wrap his arms around her. She leaned back. “Daddy’s sleeping, and Auntie’s busy. You ready to go?”
For a second he just stood there then seemed to find himself. “Yes, of course. Actually I’ve been ready since right after I left and showered.” He released one hand but kept hold of the other until he reached her door. She loved the man’s manners. Right there in her own personal Funk and Wagnalls, under gentleman was a picture of Asa Davidson.
Other than navigating him north across the river, she didn’t say anything, and he kept his peace until he got out of Texas. “Never been to Oklahoma before.”
“How come? Where have you been?”
“Haven’t ever got out of Texas. Never wanted to.”
Another plus. A big time home girl, she didn’t even like sleepovers as a kid. “Hey, did you find the Carter place okay?” Oh Lord, why’d she bring them up?
“Yes, I did. Drove right to it with your good directions. But once the boy’s father found out why I’d come by, he ordered me off his property.”
“Shame on that old booger. I was hoping it would work out, for Lee Ann’s sake.”
“Booger?”
She glanced at him. “Yeah, you know, what comes out of your nose. The man’s just acting like a nasty snot.”
He laughed. “Okay, but let’s keep the Carters in our prayers. God loves them, too.”
He was right. Of course he was right. How many times had Auntie told her to hate the sin and not the sinner? But old man Carter really was a booger. The old coot. Probably the whole reason why DeWayne was the way he was. “Turn left there at the sign.”
Same Ol’ Top Rail, but it’d be fun being there with Asa, like a kid’s first time at Six Flags or the State Fair. A shorter wait than her last time there. How long had it been? But even the wait proved fun, too. He’d gone into preacher mode and engaged several of the other folks in line with them waiting for a table. Even invited one couple to visit New Hope.
Then the little buzzer thingy they gave her to hold went to flashing. She followed the hostess, weaving in and out and around in the dark like a sidewinder. He held her chair for her then took his own seat. When had that ever happened before? Hopefully, some of the rednecks had paid some attention. They sure could learn a thing or two from her man.
She left her menu on the table. “Everything’s good here, but it’s famous for the chicken-fried steak. It’s excellent.”
“Been here a lot?”
“Sure, mostly with my parents, but I’ve also been with a few guys.”
“Your parents?”
“Of course, who do you think taught me to dance?”
“I don’t know.” Pain etched his eyes, but his mouth smiled, poor baby. “I’m sorry, Asa. I keep forgetting you’re not from here…” She stopped herself. That wasn’t it. She was an idiot. It was the parent reference that got him.
After a longer wait than last time, the waitress finally showed and took their order for two chicken-fried steaks—thank you, ma’am—with all the fixings.
“We’ve got time; want your first dance lesson?”
He smiled. “If you’re sure my inabilities won’t embarrass you.”
She stood. “Heaven’s no, come on.”
The preacher took to boot scooting like a bottle calf to his fake nipple, or maybe it was just the excuse of getting to legally put his hand on her waist. Either way, she loved it. And he didn’t beg off after only a few trips around the dance floor. Even better, no one got drunk or started a fight.
Ten or twelve more songs before supper arrived then on into the night, he led her around in circles, sliding his fancy boots along the sawdust strewn, hundred-year-old wooden floor with the best of them. And he seemed to love the Cotton Eyed Joe. Caught it dead-on by the second turn then never missed a move. Only time at the table was when the band took a break. Someone announced the last call for alcohol and the night ended.
Had she ever had a more perfect date?
The one and only not-so-perfect moment came when the waitress brought his plastic back declined, and he had to fish out his rat-hole hundred. Bless God, no one was perfect, but how many fights had her parents had over money? Not everyone was an accountant. She never could understand why Daddy just didn’t let her mother handle the money if she was so good at it.
Out in the parking lot, he opened her door, then a voice she had hoped never to hear again spoke her name. Like liquid velvet smothering her heart, DeWayne’s baritone stopped her cold.
“Shoot me dead if it ain’t Faith June Johnson in the flesh. You sure are looking good, girl, all decked out in them party rags.”
She spun around. “Hey, Carter. You meet Asa this afternoon?”
The man neared. “Naw, but I seen him. Dad said he’s a preacher man. Shocked the fool out of me when I saw you two rubbing bellies out there on the dance floor.”
Asa stepped around her and stuck his hand out. “DeWayne Junior, right?”
Of course her ex didn’t shake, left Asa’s hand hanging like a rude no-good. “Yeah, that’d be me, but it’s just DeWayne. My old man is the junior.”
“Appears to me you’re in no condition to drive. How about we take you home?”
Faith poked his arm. “No.”
“Hey, I ain’t drunk. I can out-drive you any day.”
“Excuse me, sir, but I beg to differ. I’d just like to see you home safe.”
DeWayne stuck his arm out, pried past Asa, and got in her face, reeking of booze. “I love you, Faith. Always have, and you know it.”
A blur passed in front of her eyes, then Asa stood between her and the drunk again. “Look, Carter, you need to go sleep it off. Faith is with me tonight.”
The interloper cursed and swayed then swung. Asa blocked the blow. With one easy move, he had DeWayne spun around and on the ground eating gravel. Her man held the drunk’s arm behind his back. Looked like something from a cop show. “Okay? This is over, right? You agree, Mister Carter?”
“Let me up.”
“I will, but I need your word that you’ll leave. And without one more word to Miss Johnson. Understand?”
“Fine, get off me.”
Asa released him and stepped back, keeping himself between her and DeWayne. The idiot child stumbled to his feet, backed up a few steps then snarled. “This ain’t over, Preacher.” He winked at her, blew her a sloppy kiss then turned and walked away.
SEVEN
What an idiot, but all the better, because the episode let Faith discover something totally new about Asa. The man could handle himself well. Maybe it came from growing up with so many boys. She never really thought of him as a hero, beat ‘em up type guy, but he could obviously take care of himself and anyone he cared about if the situation arose.
Wow, he’d been all over that ne’er-do-well, and she loved it, everything except the part about offering to taking DeWayne home. Now that was just plain not smart. She punched his arm. “Don’t do that again.”
He ushered her to the passenger door with his hand on her back. “Do what?”
“Offer to take a drunk home, especially if his name ends in Carter.”
“Sorry, can’t do that.”
Slipping in, she looked up. “And why not?”
“What if
he has a wreck?”
“So you’re saying it’s our duty to cruise all the bars looking for drunks to take home?”
“No, but…” He hurried around the front of the car. The man had such a good heart, but he didn’t know the first thing about those Carters. He opened his door.
“See? I’m right. But thank you for not hurting him, not that he didn’t deserve to be smacked around.”
“You’re welcome, but I would have done whatever it took to keep you safe.”
“I believe you.” After seeing him in action, she sure did. “Where’d you learn that take-down move? Way too cool.”
He laughed. “Raised with a boat load of brothers, you end up roughhousing a lot. Whether you want to or not, you’re forced to learn how to take up for yourself. The little ones always want to try the bigger ones on for size, but only when our house dad wasn’t looking. Smooth take-downs happen to be one of my specialties.”
She leaned back and relaxed. Good to know he could handle himself. Then his declined plastic reared its ugly head, and it seemed no time like the present applied. “According to Daddy, I’m a financial genius.”
He chuckled. “That’s good to know. I’m not.”
“Didn’t look like you were expecting your card to be refused; is it a debit or were you over your limit?” She turned toward him in her seat. “I don’t mean to pry or stick my nose in your business but if we’ve only got thirty days, there’s a lot I need to know.”
“Oh, no problem. I understand. It’s a debit. If I can’t pay cash, I don’t get it.”
“Well, that’s a good practice.” She pondered her next question. “So… you figure the bank made a mistake? Or… When’s the last time you balanced your checkbook.”
“Umm, that would be never. I keep a running balance in my head. I never get in too much trouble.”
“Want me to balance it for you?”
“Don’t have a checkbook per se.” He shrugged. “I mean, not one that ever gets balanced with anything. I rarely write checks.”
“But you justify the electronic charges on your debit card, right?”
