Bittersweet Memories

by Cecelia Dowdy

  “Well, that’s good news.”

  “Yeah, I was happy to hear about it. But that wasn’t the only reason she called.”

  “What else did she say?”

  “It seems the local paper in Ocean City ran an update on the original story about Lionel’s embezzlement.”

  He placed his cup on the table. “Did you find out anything you didn’t already know?”

  She nodded. “They’ve hired an outside firm to audit the church’s finances. It appears that Lionel and maybe Michelle have been stealing money from the church for over a year. They’ve found evidence that both were writing checks drawn on the church bank, then cashing them and using the funds for their own personal use.” She touched the large diamond ring gracing her finger. “I’m starting to wonder if Lionel was spending some of that money on me. Did he buy this engagement ring with church money?” She glanced at the window for a few seconds. “Lionel always liked spending money, and I’d assumed the money he was spending was his own. It almost sickens me to wear my engagement ring anymore since it may have been purchased with tainted money.”

  “You don’t know that.” He gave the situation some thought then asked, “Is the audit done?”

  She shrugged. “I guess so. Who knows? I didn’t think to ask Monica what else the article said. I could go online and read it for myself, but I—I just can’t do it right now.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Karen, her lower lip trembling, said, “I—I just feel so. . .responsible for—for everything that happened. What if Lionel stole that money. . .to buy me things? Like this engagement ring. What if he thought he needed more money. . .to m–make me happy? To buy us a home?”

  “But you weren’t—you aren’t—responsible.”

  “H–how could I have been engaged to a man I didn’t even know? How could I have been so blind?”

  He paused then said, “Maybe you should start worshipping at our church.”

  “Our church?”

  “Yes. The one your mom and I attend.”

  His suggestion was met with silence. So he tried another tactic. “Do you feel better since you’re living here?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, our church is small, and we’re always looking for some of our members to volunteer in its ministries. If you start coming to our church and find that you like worshipping there, then you might want to consider helping me out with the youth.”

  She furrowed her brow, frowning. She then stood, topped off their coffee cups, and returned to the table. “Helping you out with the youth?”

  “Yes, at Devo every Friday night.”

  “What’s ‘devo’?”

  “It’s short for devotional. Every week we have a youth gathering—it’s mostly praise and worship—and the youth can talk about things that are bothering them. My friend Melanie usually helps, but she’s been canceling a lot lately. I’m not sure what’s been going on with her, but it would be nice to have another pair of hands. We usually have dinner afterward.”

  “I don’t know anything about teenagers.”

  “Sure you do. You were a teenager yourself once, weren’t you?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  “So? Just remember what it was like back then. Sometimes young people get confused, and it’s easier for them to talk to an adult other than their parents.”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I’m pretty confused myself right now.”

  He patted her shoulder. “Just give it some thought. I think it would be good for you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “My first minister in college used to say that when you’re hurting, you should try not to focus on your own pain. One way to do that is to help others. I can tell you’re hurting, and I just want to make you feel better.” He paused. “It was wrong of me to advise you to go back to your church where you felt uncomfortable. I’ve never been in your situation, so I probably should have told you that it would be best if you worshipped at another church where you felt more welcome.” He looked down at his coffee. “Or I could have just kept my big mouth shut.”

  “Why do you care about me—my situation?”

  He toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table then shrugged. “It’s the way I am. I feel called to help people.”

  She frowned. “Do you mean like a pastor?”

  “Yes.” Looking into her dark eyes, he decided to tell her about his dream. “I don’t know how much your mom has told you about me.”

  Karen took a sip of coffee. “Well, she told me about how much you love the Lord and how devoted you are to the church.”

  “Well, I’d like to lead a church one day, if God allows. You’d think at thirty years old I’d have this all figured out, but I’m taking it one day at a time.”

  Raising her eyebrows, she set her mug back onto the table. “You want to be a pastor?”

  “Yes, I do. But I still have a lot of things I need to do first.”

  “Such as?”

  He paused, still struggling with what to tell her about his future plans.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “Well, for starters, I need to learn how to advise people in such a way that they don’t end up leaving restaurants in a huff.”

  She winced. “I probably overreacted.”

  “No, I can be quite blunt. I need to work on that. Another thing I’d like to do is go to divinity school to get my degree.”

  She leaned toward him. “Really?”

  “Yes, I’m looking into some schools now.”

  She sat back. “Have you ever preached?”

  “Yes, a few times.”

  She smiled. “How did it go?”

  “Honestly? It wasn’t bad, but I felt it could be better.” They were silent for a few seconds before Keith reminded her about his earlier question. “Just give my request some thought.”

  “Your request?”

  “To help out at the church. I think it’ll be good for you.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Our congregation doesn’t know what happened to you, so they can’t hold it against you. Plus, once you start ministering and fellowshipping with other Christians, it’ll take your mind off. . .other things.”

  “I’ll think about it,” was all she managed to say.

  “Okay, let me know what you decide.” He squeezed her hand before he left her home.

  Five

  Over the following week Karen worked steadily at her new job. Turning a deaf ear to Sheronda’s prying questions and constant gossip, Karen focused on building up her clientele. At home, she spent lots of time with her mother, much of it in the kitchen, where they prepared meals and conversed about life.

  One evening they dined at the Aqua Terra on Main Street before buying dessert at the Annapolis Ice Cream Factory, which proudly boasted about baking cobblers and pies on its premises and smashing them into its homemade ice cream. While digging into a dish of the store’s unique and luscious-tasting blackberry cobbler ice cream, Karen murmured, “Mmm. This is so good.”

  “Yes, it is,” her mother agreed. “So, Karen, are you going to services this weekend? You know it’s Easter. What a great time to begin worshipping again.”

  Karen ate a few more spoonfuls of her treat before responding to her mother’s question. “Yes, Mom, I think I will.”

  Doris squeezed her daughter’s hand. “I’m glad to hear that.” She suddenly frowned.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  “I just wondered about Lionel. You haven’t mentioned him since Monica called about the church’s audit.”

  Karen abandoned her spoon. “I’m still angry, but I don’t hurt as much as I used to.”

  Doris hugged her daughter. “Give your anger over to God,” she whispered.

  ❧

  Karen awoke at dawn to a sunny and unseasonably warm Easter Sunday. She stretched and
smiled, having slept well.

  Hearing a knock on her bedroom door, she yelled out, “Mom? . . . Come on in!”

  Her mother poked her head in. “You awake?”

  “Yes, just. You’re up early.”

  “Yes. For an hour or so already. I just wanted to let you know that Keith is picking me up soon to take me to church.”

  “You’re leaving already?” Karen asked with a yawn.

  Her mother nodded. “We need to be there early to prepare for the holiday services.”

  “Are you excited about singing in the choir today?”

  “Well, I don’t know about excited,” her mother said with a somewhat nervous smile. “There’s bound to be a big crowd.”

  “Believe me, Mom. You’ll do just great.”

  “I hope so. . . . Well, I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you later?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Karen said.

  An hour later, Karen pulled into the parking lot of the small house of worship in nearby Gambrills, Maryland. Bible in hand, she approached the steps to the recently renovated building. Tulips nodded in the spring breeze, creating a rainbow of color beside the whitewashed structure. The steeple gleamed in the early morning sun as if Jesus was smiling down on the church.

  Taking a deep breath, she entered the vestibule, admiring the cranberry carpet and paneled walls. Karen’s heart stopped when she spotted Keith standing at the sanctuary door, holding a stack of programs. The dark suit, crisp white shirt, and midnight blue tie accented his broad chest and shoulders. His eyes sparkled when he saw her.

  “Karen.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  Somewhat stunned, Karen returned his embrace then stepped out of his arms. “Hi, Keith.”

  “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “My mom didn’t tell you?”

  “No.” He grinned. “She spent the entire ride going over her choir music.” He pressed a program into her hand. “You look beautiful.”

  She touched her hair. “Thanks, you look nice, too.”

  He glanced toward the other usher. “Aaron, this is Karen Brown. She’s Ms. Doris’s daughter. Karen, this is Aaron.”

  She smiled, shaking Aaron’s hand before Keith spoke again. “Can you handle things alone for a minute, Aaron?”

  The tall, dark-skinned man grinned. “I’ve got things covered. Take your time.”

  Keith pulled Karen aside. “You’re wearing the dress.”

  Puzzled, she tried to make sense of his words. “The dress?” The delicious musky scent of his cologne surrounded her, and when she peered into his eyes, she realized his face looked different.

  “Yes, the dress you were looking at the night we had dinner together?” He paused. “I mean the night we almost had dinner together.”

  Karen recalled their aborted meal with some embarrassment. “Yes, well. . .I guess I couldn’t resist. . . . I’m surprised you remembered,” she said, suddenly glad she’d given in to her impulse.

  “There’s not much about you that I forget.” He gave her a warm smile.

  For the first time Karen realized Keith had a dimple in his left cheek. But something else about him was different today. Hmm. He is so nice, and handsome, and. . . Karen nervously cleared her throat. As she stuffed her program into her Bible, she tried to focus on his altered appearance instead of the effect he seemed to be having on her. “There’s something different about you today. What is it?”

  “Huh?”

  She frowned in concentration while he continued to grin. And then it hit her. “You’re not wearing your glasses!”

  “Nope. I’m wearing my contact lenses.”

  His light brown eyes were warm and rich like hot caramel sauce. She looked away, needing to get into the sanctuary to find her seat. She glanced at Aaron, who was looking a bit overwhelmed at the huge crowd of parishioners coming through the doors.

  As if reading her thoughts, Keith said, “Look, I’ve got to help Aaron. But I’ll talk to you at your house later.”

  “At my house?”

  He led her back to the sanctuary door. “Yes, didn’t your mom tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “She invited me over for lunch after service.”

  With a parting smile, he resumed his station at the door while Karen entered the sanctuary, both floored and excited about their unexpected lunch guest.

  ❧

  Trying hard not to stare at Karen’s retreating form, Keith forced himself to focus on the churchgoers entering the sanctuary. He could just kick himself for admitting he remembered almost everything about her! He was sure she didn’t want to hear that.

  Finally, as the prelude began and the ushers were about close the double doors, Aaron drew closer to Keith, saying softly, “Karen’s a cute little thing. Are you two involved?”

  Rolling his eyes, Keith entered the room behind his friend. “No,” he whispered, not wanting Aaron to get the wrong idea. “You know how I feel about dating right now.”

  Aaron and Keith sat in the back, ready to assist latecomers who would be looking for seats. The choir voices lifted in song and Keith closed his eyes, taking delight in the joyful melody resounding throughout the church, wrapping the audience with God’s Holy Spirit. He finally opened his eyes and focused on Ms. Doris. Her robe drifted as she swayed with the rest of the choral members. Her dark eyes appeared nervous, but when her gaze met his, she smiled, giving him a quick wink, continuing to sing.

  The tune carried on and he clapped his hands, swaying to the rhythm. Parishioners stood in their seats, heartily singing along, clapping, and praising the Lord. Keith smiled, joy filling his soul on this Easter morning.

  Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, warming the church with light. When the chorus finally ended, Pastor Bolton stepped up to the podium, his deep booming voice filling the sanctuary. “Happy Easter, everybody!”

  Several members responded, “Praise the Lord! Happy Easter!”

  “It’s a pleasure to have all of you here today.” He stared at the audience before speaking. “I’d like to invite Keith Baxter to step forward and lead the opening prayer.”

  Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, Keith went to the pulpit, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. He walked onto the platform. “Good morning, everybody.”

  “Good morning, Keith! Praise the Lord!”

  “We are here to praise Jesus today.” He bowed his head. “Lord, thank You for this beautiful Easter morning, for this day of life, and for the sacrifice You made by sending Your Son. Please be with us as we continue through the day, worshipping You and praising You. And if there are any souls suffering here today, may Your Holy Spirit comfort them.” He gripped the podium, his eyes still closed. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  “Amen,” several parishioners responded.

  Pastor Bolton stepped to the pulpit and shook Keith’s hand. “Wonderful job, Keith.”

  “Thanks for letting me lead the prayer, Pastor,” Keith said softly to the minister; then he rejoined Aaron in the back of the church.

  As Pastor Bolton read the account of Jesus’ resurrection in the Gospels, many members expressed their joy over the event that granted eternal life to those who accepted Jesus as their Savior.

  “Amen!” cried members from the pews.

  When the sermon was over, the pastor gripped the pulpit. “If there is anybody present who has not accepted Jesus, or if you’re a believer with something on your heart that you want to let go and bring to Jesus, please come forward.”

  Keith and Aaron, part of the four-member prayer and encouragement team, stood and walked forward. This was one of Keith’s favorite moments during a service. His heart lifted with gladness when a person came forward, wanting to accept Jesus as his Savior.

  Several “Praise Gods” and “Halleujahs” sounded from the audience. They continued to chant the song “Oh, What a Mighty God We Serve” along with the choir as people came forward. Keith’s heart stopped when Kare
n walked down the aisle, tears streaming from her pretty brown eyes. She looked like a wounded dove, and all he wanted to do was lift her up and help take away her pain.

  A total of eighteen people stepped forward. Pastor Bolton’s wife divided the lot into four groups, one for each member of the prayer and encouragement team. When Keith led his group away to the prayer room, he said a silent prayer for Karen, who’d been assigned to Aaron’s group. Lord, may her time in prayer with You heal her spirit.

  ❧

  Before going to Ms. Doris’s house, Keith changed into his best jeans and collared shirt, still thinking about the events that occurred after the service. He’d prayed with his assigned group before searching for Karen. Aaron found him and gave him the message that Ms. Doris had ridden home with her daughter and was looking forward to seeing him later for lunch.

  Still wondering if Karen was okay, Keith strolled toward her house. A light breeze blew, rustling the new green leaves budding on the trees. He rapped on Ms. Doris’s back door. Karen opened it, her petite frame sporting a pair of jeans and a pink T-shirt. Resisting the urge to kiss her cheek, he stepped into the kitchen. The scents of cheese, ham, and tomatoes filled the space, making his mouth water. “Smells good in here.”

  “Thanks. The food is almost ready.” She tapped his arm, and his skin sizzled from the brief touch. “Come into the dining room.”

  A small platter of cheese and crackers rested in the center of the dining room table, along with smaller empty plates. “Where’s your mom?”

  “She’s on the phone. She’ll be out shortly.” She gestured toward the platter. “Help yourself. Would you like something to drink?”

  “A Coke, if you have it.”

  She exited the dining room and returned with his soda. He thanked her before he sat, wanting to relish their time alone before her mother returned. “I was glad you stepped forward at church today. Did the prayer session afterward help?” When she didn’t respond, he rushed on, wanting to put her at ease. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I know it’s none of my business.”

  “That’s okay. It’s sweet of you to ask.” Sighing, she sat in the empty chair beside him.