by Caryl McAdoo
“Justify? What are you talking about?”
“Make sure they’re not cheating you.”
“Oh, naw. I figure the Lord can keep up with it. Like I said, math isn’t my forte.”
“How about I work you up a budget?”
For too long he didn’t say anything, only bobbed his head sideways then forward like a serious internal debate went on inside. Finally, he shrugged again. “Maybe.”
“What kind of answer is that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re a little intimidating. You’ve so got it together, taking care of your father and running the ranch, training horses, being so strong, and then turning into this beautiful fairytale princess. If you got a look at my financial records, you might run screaming into the night.”
“Beautiful? You really think I’m beautiful?”
He glanced over with his little-boy grin, nodded, looked back to the road, then stole a second peek. “You’re kidding, right? Even with your hair braided, you’re very easy on the eyes, but with it down, around your face, carpeting your back… And that dress and green jacket and such a sweet hint of war paint.” He smiled, filled his lungs then exhaled slowly. “Yes, ma’am. Actually, more than beautiful; gorgeous. Compared to you, cute is ugly.”
His rose-colored glasses needed cleaning, but he definitely seemed smitten. Still, she loved every sweet word he had to say. “Thank you, Asa, but back to the money, my daddy—bless his heart—resisted letting Mama take care of our finances for years, when she clearly had a gift for it.
“Wasn’t until he wised up and handed the books over to her that we started getting it together. She upgraded our stock first, went from a bunch of crossbred cows to registered Angus, grade cowponies to registered quarter horses. What can I say? She had a gift, and I’ve got it, too. Nothing to be ashamed of if you don’t.”
“Hmmm, well... How…? Um, I have this…”
Bless his heart. She giggled. “What are trying to say?” She leaned forward to see his face. Even with only the dashboard’s dim light, his ‘kid with his hand in the cookie jar’ expression gave him away. “What is it, Asa? You a problem gambler or something?”
“No, it’s not that bad. Well, maybe, I…”
“Come on, man, spit it out. Doesn’t it say somewhere about the truth setting you free?”
“Yes, it does, in John; chapter eight, verse thirty-two. And also James says to confess our faults one to another, so… Here it is; I like new clothes.”
Oh, wow. She did her best to keep a straight face, “Alright, then. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” A little weird maybe; clothes for a vice? “How bad is it?”
“Whenever I get my check, I pay the bills, then, well…” He smiled. “It’s only been me. So, I go shopping. Let’s just say I have trouble telling myself no if something catches my eye.”
“Ah, like those boots?”
“Exactly, just like them.”
“So, is it safe to assume the change out of your rat-hole hundred is that all the money you have left until you get paid again?”
“Yes, ma’am, safe as Peter when he stepped out of that boat.”
“In the world?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She shook her head, but bless God, he couldn’t be perfect. Neither was she, or anyone else for that matter, but... “When do you get paid again?”
“The fifteenth.”
She snickered. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but it’s just so much like Daddy. So you do need help with a budget, right?”
“What kind of budget?”
“I don’t know yet, what are they paying you?”
He told her then laid out his expenses one by one. Other than his student loan payment, car insurance, and cell phone, all he had was an educated guess on gas, grocery, and eating out. “The church takes care of my utilities.”
“This interim thing, did they give you any kind of guarantee? Six months or something?”
“Three months, twelve weeks.”
“Is that all? When did you start?”
“This Sunday is my seventh, so I’ve got five more weeks, then…”
She pointed to her right. “Turn there.”
“Good ole State Highway Thirty-Seven, take me home to Texas.”
The Corolla’s headlights went dead just before they shone on the house, then before she could tell him no need, he dashed around and helped her out. She stopped at the front door and faced him. “I had a great time, and bless God…” He leaned in. Why not?
Tilting her head back, she met his lips, but he didn’t linger, not as long as she’d have liked. He held her and prayed in her ear. “Thank You, Lord. Thank You for this beautiful woman. Thank You for giving us the desires of our hearts and always so much more than we could ever imagine. We bless and praise You, Father.” Then he was gone.
Why was she shocked that Auntie waited up? The old dear must have set her alarm or something. A cup of hot tea and raisin toast sat in front and across from her. Faith took her place at the kitchen table.
Auntie had it all pulled out and everything as though she’d staged the chair for a one act play. “Well? How was it, Darlin’? Can he dance? Did you have fun?”
Faith glanced at the wall clock, ten after two, but there’d be no sleep until her daddy’s baby sister heard it all. Two cups of tea, half a piece of toast, and ten gallons of words later, she had her other mother up to speed, except she couldn’t answer the question she’d been wondering about herself.
“I don’t know, Auntie, I’m liking him well enough, but is it love? I just don’t know. He sure seems smitten with me, but is that enough?”
“Well, him fessin’ up about being a clothes horse then being willing to let you help take care of his finances, that’s being pretty open with you, baby girl. Generally, men are real weird about their money. And admitting their faults, too, for that matter. Guess the roosters don’t want to appear henpecked to the other yard birds.”
“Maybe. What do you think his chances are at New Hope? What would I do if they didn’t hire him?”
“Everyone seems to like him fine so far. I figure if he were to marry a local girl… Well, it would be another plus to his favor.”
“That’s one thing I’m worried about. And that the job could be a big part of his motivation. I mean, do you think…”
“I think there’s no need for you to worry about anything. Worrying only hinders every promise of God. It never accomplishes anything, ‘cept maybe making you sick.”
“I know.”
“But it’s true. If you worry, then you flat out aren’t trusting God. You’re telling Him that He hasn’t got your back, isn’t looking out for you.”
“You’re right. I know that. But what if Asa doesn’t care who he marries so long as he marries someone just so they’ll hire him? Maybe he isn’t as smitten as he seems.”
“No maybe about it. I mean it, girl. Him just telling you all about his finances is big. Accepting your help, that’s huge. Just look at your daddy.” Auntie patted her hand. “If my brother would have let your mother handle the money from the start…” She shrugged. “No telling where y’all’d be now, especially if she could have got off the alcohol.”
“I never really understood why she drank so much, enough to kill herself.”
“Oh, I don’t believe she meant to do that. She loved you and your daddy. I’m not sure how it started, but toward the end, she only wanted to stop the shakes, probably some weird metabolism issue, but bourbon, moonshine, vodka, even cooking sherry, didn’t matter.”
“Speaking of roosters, my Roscoe doesn’t ever sleep in.” Faith stood. “You coming to bed?”
“No, if memory serves, you’re a terrible bed buddy, and it’s getting a bit chilly. I’ll get the stove going, and maybe nap some in Carl’s recliner.”
No need arguing with Aunt Iris. How could she? Her mother told the same story.
Asa wasn’t really expecting Faith to make Sunday school, but when s
he hadn’t showed by eleven, the muscles in his stomach tightened. He had trouble concentrating on the hymn being sung for glancing at the back door—or rather the front door, but from his little pew up on the platform... He shouldn’t have told her.
He never should have confessed, not on the first date. What had he been thinking?
Surely, she’d marked him off now. Who wanted to be with a man that didn’t have the money to show her a good time? Halfway through the second of the three advertised songs, Faith, her father, and Aunt Iris slipped into the first open pew right in front of the teenagers. Praise the Lord, she came.
Thank You, Father.
But had she only come to tell him the deal was off?
No, she wouldn’t have brought the old folks if that’s what she planned, would she?
The chairman of the deacons made the announcements then nodded toward him.
From behind the pulpit, he allowed his gaze to sweep the crowd. Praise the Lord, a few more than last week—again. Seemed his congregation grew every week, a good thing. He lingered on a new couple. How great the new pastor at New Hope was. He grinned at the vain thought. He’d have to be sure to meet them after the service.
His scan brought him to Faith, and he caught her eye. She was so beautiful. He ached for her, thanked God with almost every breath for her. Surely she was the one. Upon her arrival, the rock in his stomach lightened some, but the doubts over sharing his faults and poor financial condition lingered. What grown man didn’t have money saved up?
Then she winked at him. His heart flipped, and the boulder exploded into a rabble of butterflies that threatened to carry him straight to Heaven. Were his feet still touching the ground? He smiled then made himself look away. Just behind Faith, Lee Ann sat beside a younger version of the drunk from the night before. Had to be Skylar, but how…?
Someone cleared their throat. Scripture! His mind drew a blank. What book was that?
“James! Turn your Bibles to James, folks. Right after Hebrews, before Peter, a short little powerful book past halfway in the New Testament. The author of this book was the only sibling of Jesus who wrote anything down that we know of. We’ll be looking at the first chapter, verse seventeen.”
He had the page marked as always, but as his eyes fell on the scripture, a strong impression moved him to start a bit earlier. “Actually, let’s back up to verse twelve and talk about temptation.”
For the prescribed thirty minutes, he taught on what Mary’s other son had written, then stopped and stepped to the side of the pulpit.
“If there’s anyone here who has not accepted Christ as Savior, today’s the day. Now’s the time. Come forward as Miss Betty plays ‘Just as I Am’ for us.” The pianist took her place and played softly as he continued. “Let all your sins be washed away by His Blood. Accept His gift of Love this morning. Please rise and sing with us.”
The congregation stood and joined in the old hymn that spoke of the Holy Spirit bidding sinners to come. Heads nodded all over the building, but no one seemed to be under conviction. He loved how he could tell almost every time. Must have a houseful of believers, except what about Skylar? He looked back to the last pew filled with teens end to end.
“Right now is all we’ve got, folks. Not one of us is guaranteed our next breath.”
That’s what young people could never grasp, always thinking their whole life—years and years—lay in front of them. More agreement with a few amens from the old folks, but no one seemed to be struggling with anything.
“If anyone needs prayer for anything, now’s the time to come before our closing hymn is over.” He picked up singing on the second verse. “With many a conflict, many a doubt, fightings and fears within, without, Oh Lamb of God, I come.” He held up his hand, pointing to the ceiling. “One more verse, then we’ll close.”
No one came forward. While the closing payer was prayed, he slipped down the aisle to the vestibule.
EIGHT
“Amen.”
Faith kept her seat while the congregation passed by. Several stopped to say they’d missed her and her daddy and had been praying. After the sanctuary emptied, she helped him to his feet then eased him out. Aunt Iris took his other side. Like the countless other times Faith had been to New Hope, the preacher greeted his flock on the way out.
But this time was different. She studied Asa shaking the hands and thanking his folks for coming, asking about family members not there. So natural and sincere and she had no doubt that he meant every word. Would she like standing next to the man?
She did love listening to him preach, except really, he’d taught. She liked that. How many times since she’d been saved had she heard the salvation message? That’s all some of the old guys preached, and their too similar messages got boring week after week... Like okay, she got it already, now what?
“Faith, Mister Johnson, Aunt Iris, so good to have you all this morning.” He leaned in to her father. “Even if I did have to make it part of the deal.”
“Dad, remember?”
“Yes, sir, Dad.”
Aunt Iris patted Faith’s arm. “I’m taking Carl on home to give you young people a little time together.” She slipped a folded bill into Asa’s hand. “Take my niece out for a Mexican dinner. She loves it. Have you discovered she’s a jalapeno popper yet?”
How could she? Faith loved her aunt, but sometimes, the old lady just went too far.
Dear God, he’d think she’d told her aunt about his card getting declined. And the worst of it was—she had! Why didn’t Auntie think things through? Should she say something? Never should have shared about how bad he was with money. Bless God, how could Auntie? She needed to remember and keep some things to herself.
“My brother’s promised to give me a rematch.”
“Uh,” Asa’s face was bright red. He did think it. He knew. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Scrabble, the old coot beat me twice last night.”
“I got the Z on double letter and stretched zephyrs to a triple word score.” Her father lifted Faith’s fingers from his arm. “We’ll see you kids after church tonight.”
How could she fight Scrabble? She hung out front going over possible get-me-out-of-telling-him diversion questions until he locked the side door.
He hurried toward her, the color of his face had returned to near normal. He put the keys in back pocket. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Rio Verde, I guess. Since Auntie’s treating us to lunch. She’s so sweet. She was waiting up for me, you know. Wanted to hear all about our first date. She mentioned how expensive everything was these days and how much such an evening could cost.” She squeezed his arm. “Wasn’t it sweet of her to send us to dinner? The lady has more money than she’ll ever spend.” Oh, God, she hoped she wasn’t babbling.
“She’s a sweetheart, indeed.”
Breath came easy again and thank you Lord. Subject—change it to something, anything. “Uh, I’d planned on just going home. We’ve got leftover roast.”
“Sounds good for supper, but it seems God really wants us to go out today.” He smiled, stuck his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a crispy hundred dollar bill.
“Wow, where’d that come from?”
“I was instructed by Rusty and Joy to take you out somewhere nice.”
“Who’s Rusty and Joy?”
“We met them last night at the Top Rail, while we were waiting for a table. Remember? The guy who said they’d moved here five months ago, and no one had invited them to church? Anyway, they said they loved the sermon and plan on coming back. Handed me this and said they wanted to treat us.”
“How sweet.”
“They thought we were so cute dancing every song, and…”
“And what?”
He grimaced then smiled a bit sheepishly and chuckled. “She said I should hold you a bit closer, especially on the slow numbers. Said that girls liked to be held.”
“Did she now? So where do they live?”
“St
ill in Dallas for now, but they bought a place in Manchester, not too far up the road. According to them, they’ve been spending more time up here than in town. Both of them work online, so they can live anywhere.” He opened her door, and she slipped in, careful to gather her full skirt inside.
He ran around and hopped in. “They have a motor home they stay in while their house is being built, and their place in town is up for sale.”
“Well, since money’s no option, The Bistro is good. Do you like Italian? I love their bread.”
“Sure, whatever’s fine with me. Do you see how God takes care of me?” He grinned, unfolding the century note Auntie had slipped him and folded the two bills together then tucked them into his wallet. “Whichever you want, could go to Paris.”
“No reason, no better food there than in Clarksville. Unless you’re craving Chinese; they do have a great buffet there.”
“The Bistro it is then. We’ll have to try that Chinese place sometime though. I love sweet and sour chicken. How far is it?”
“Only about thirty minutes.” Halfway through her side salad, she put her fork down, and in spite of what her mouth wanted, saved the rest. She tore off a chunk of homemade roll and swirled it in the seasoned oil. “Has anyone said anything about making you permanent at the church yet?”
“No, the congregation votes on it first Sunday in December. That’s if the deacon board approves me.”
“They’d be crazy not to. Did you see Sky Carter sitting next to Lee Ann?”
“I did.” He leaned in. “Shook my hand and told me on the way out that his mama woke him up early and gave him the keys to her car.”
“Wow, bless God, but I always did like her. She’s a nice lady.”
“Let’s keep all the Carters in our prayers, but especially Skylar.”
Yeah, right. Oh, Lord, she looked away. Of course she should be praying for them, for DeWayne, but… Then… She looked back at Asa. “You are so right. The Bible tells us to pray for those who spitefully use us.”
“Exactly. Praying for someone, asking God to bless that person, really changes you. And who knows? Might snatch a sinner out of hell’s fire.”
