“What?” Her face stretched in mock shock.
“You drew first blood.”
She laughed and bobbed her head. “Okay.”
Andi bounded around the corner in a flurry of fish pellets and collided with her father’s leg. “Is she coming for ice cream with us? Huh? Is she? I waited like you asked me to.”
Rhett grinned at Jules. “We were just about to get to that.”
* * *
Jules pulled the front door shut with a smile and pressed her back against it. Her jeep sat in the driveway with a new battery. She’d spent the last two hours listening to Andi prattle about everything under the sun, eating ice cream at a table outside the dairy parlor under an indigo sky. Rhett’s handsome face had definitely upgraded the whole experience. He was so helpful. Hmmm. That fell a little flat. But, yes. Just a helpful friend.
With a deep inhale, she tried to drum up some ire. She should be angry with the man. Flippin’ angry. But she wasn’t. She was thankful. And sheepish. Why can’t I seem to take care of myself? With a sigh, she pushed from the door and flipped the useless light switch.
“Silly me—” She froze in mid-sentence as the room brightened. What? She hadn’t had time or money to turn on the electricity. Why…Rhett. How had that man managed it? The refrigerator kicked on, drawing her glance. She shook her head. Now she owed him even more money. When had she become so helpless? Pushing it from her mind, she readied for bed.
Jules questioned him the next morning about the magical display of electricity in her home, but he shrugged, mumbled that he knew the lady at the electric company and how she’d need air conditioning soon. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she had no unit. A quick check at her thermostat yesterday had revealed simply, ‘heat’ and ‘off.’ An outside jaunt verified her predicament. Perhaps the realtor had explained this, but Jules had been in such a funk, it’d sailed right over her head.
Jules sighed. Rhett probably already owned a vest covered with patches of the good deeds he’d done for her. She clamped her mouth closed. He wasn’t going to earn the award for providing air conditioning for a wretched divorcée today.
The rest of the week passed as pleasantly as it could. She spent most evenings at the library dealing with e-mails, or nestled in an overstuffed chair in a windowed nook with a magazine. Her bank account was frighteningly meager. Her wages weren’t helping much toward financial recovery, and selling the house tied the money she and Darrel had together in red tape. And she still owed Rhett.
Just as she hit a routine, her assignment of taking care of Andi ended. Even though she detested the early morning start, she enjoyed the time with Andi and yes, being with Rhett. She’d miss that. Meanwhile the grass in her yard grew. Jules promptly ignored it.
Until Saturday. After taking the long way home and stopping in at the library to check e-mails and her bank account, she discovered her lawn mowed and trimmed. She stopped on the sidewalk in front of her house. By the sound of a small engine, it had to be her friendly neighborhood handyman. Just as the thought entered her mind, Rhett came out from behind her house on a large tractor mower. He cut the motor when he caught a glimpse of her.
“Hey,” he called.
“You have to stop doing this. I own a lawnmower, you know.”
He swung himself off the his green tractor and sauntered toward her, pulling something from his jean pocket. To her embarrassment, he held the pull rope from her Comet push mower, complete with the rubber handle.
“Yeah, I see you have a lawnmower.” He shook the cord and raised his brows. “I fixed your garage door, too. It’s a bit temperamental.”
Jules wasn’t sure whether to hug him or cry. She did neither.
“I know, I’m sorry. It seems you keep digging me out of one mess or another.”
He smiled, the haunted look all but gone. He twirled the frayed end of the rope. “You pack a powerful pull for such a little thing.”
Jules stood up to her full five foot stature. Five foot flat. She lifted her chin. Rhett gave a crooked grin at her defensive stance.
He held up his hands to fend her off. “Now don’t get all up in arms. I’m just impressed with your strength. There’s not too many women who could pull the rope plumb off a lawnmower.”
“Well, it wouldn’t start.” A giggle bubbled out. Rhett always seemed to make her laugh. He chuckled too.
“I gotta go pick up Andi. She’s at a friend’s house. I appreciate you watching her for me the last couple of weeks. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you. She’s already asking when you can come again. I think that kid likes you.”
Jules smiled and tucked her hands behind her back. Little did he know how much she missed the ritual of taking care of the feisty scamp. “I enjoy her also. It was fun. Just holler if you need me again.”
Jules pulled a small smile, hoping she didn’t sound too hopeful.
He stood there a moment looking at her. “We missed you at church last week.”
Yeah. Church.
He walked toward her and held out the rope. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow?” He grinned, one eyebrow aloft.
How could a man have such blue eyes? Jules shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Okay. Good enough. Hey, my neighbor can fix your lawnmower. And if you’re not too picky about what it looks like when I finish, or how many extra parts are left once it’s assembled, I could work on it. I’m pretty handy about taking things apart, just not overly good at putting them back together.”
With a salute, he leaped onto the tractor, fired it up, and pulled out with a wide grin still on his face. Jules could only shake her head and smile.
* * *
Work made Jules crazy. It was fact. She was never intended by the Creator to be a waitress. Every night, her feet ached, and her mind pounded with an empty numbness. Each shift melded in to another dead, dull day. Somehow, she had to figure out something better. One more crotchety customer might just push her over the edge. She sighed. She missed being around kids. Fun kids, full of energy and humor. Adults made her clench. Well, if nothing else, at least working at Marsha’s had dulled the pain. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable.
Now money. That was another problem. Paying rent, paying for the jeep, paying the bills, ready-made food. Owing Rhett. Her pitiful income couldn’t keep up, and it was starting to pinch. Perhaps she would call her lawyer.
She moped most of the way home. The long way. When she got to the church, she paused. Everything seemed so out of kilter. How she wished she could rise up and float over all the problems and dysfunctions. Why couldn’t life just work out? Why?
She walked to the arched door and reached for the brass handles. Locked. Intense longing tugged at her heart. I need to be inside. Flanking the entrance to the sidewalk, she headed toward the school wing and swung the glass doors open. Double doors surrounded her on three sides, and she glanced around. How to get upstairs? How strange not to know every nook and cranny of a church as she had in a previous life. She grimaced.
A man dressed in a dark suit with grey sliding through his sideburns came through the left door. Jules recognized the pastor who’d spoken the Sunday she’d attended.
“May I help you?” He gave a friendly smile.
“I…” What did she want?
“Are you a parent?” he prodded. “I’m afraid school has already been dismissed.”
Jules shook her head. “I just wanted to go to the sanctuary…for a few minutes.”
He searched her eyes. “I see.” Jules fidgeted as his gaze continued to examine her face. “Come this way.”
He led her to the same door he’d appeared through while introducing himself as Jim Kinkle, pastor of the church, and asked subtle questions about her visit. He guided her up the stairs to the second floor and turned several corners until they came to a familiar foyer with double doors on the right and the locked arched doors leading outside to the left.
“If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall and to the le
ft. You’ll eventually be led to my office. My secretary’s here if I don’t happen to be in around at that moment. She’ll know where I am.” He gave her a benign smile and left her in the foyer.
Jules sucked in a gasp of air. The last time she’d been in this entry had been her first Sunday back in a church. People had welcomed her, but the curious stares had cinched her nerves. She’d felt out of place and on display. But this time it was just her. And…God.
An unearthly silence enveloped her as she pushed the door open. The sanctuary seemed huge without any parishioners. She tilted her head back and took in the soaring beamed ceiling. Her fingers brushed the antique dark pew, polished to a high sheen. Muted light streamed through the gorgeous stained glass windows, splashing the walls with a multitude of colors.
In the hushed atmosphere, she settled in the back right pew, against the armrest. A shiver ran over her skin, raising goose bumps. The pulpit appeared dark and elevated with the choir loft stretching along the rear wall. The impressive pipes of the organ soared high overhead, its bronze tubes of varying shapes a work of art in itself. The baby grand stood to the right, and Jules longed to explore the beautiful instrument, but she couldn’t move.
There was such a distance. A great gulf. How close she’d once been, but she’d pulled away. Anger, bitterness, wounds. A sob rose. I’m tired of fighting alone. A tear brimmed her lid. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Happily ever after. That’d been the plan.
Her life had been fine, or so it’d seemed. Married with a child and then a grown child. Trembling took over her body. At that moment a verse popped into her head.
“I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Who was here? She jumped up. Her head whipped around. But as she scanned the empty sanctuary, she realized it’d only occurred in her mind.
She left the pew and stumbled to the front of the room toward the altar. Why God? Why did you leave me? Tears rushed down her face as she neared the altar.
“I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
The verse reverberated in her brain, as if real vocal chords had spoken in the quiet room. “But I’m alone, I’m wounded.”
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord , plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I can’t make it, Lord, You ask too much.”
“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The cross.
Jules fixed her eyes upon that very symbol hanging high over the pulpit, the choir loft, and the organ pipes. He endured the cross. The ridicule, the abuse, the nails. A sob tore from her throat, and she knelt on the steps at the altar and buried her face in her hands pressed against the carpet. Pain enveloped her in waves. Her voice came in guttural groans. “But how can I endure, how?”
“I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”
“My strength is gone. God, my endurance is spent. Can’t you see? God, I have no power left. None. How will I withstand this?”
“But those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”
Wait. They that wait. Perhaps the most difficult assignment ever given. Wait. The word whispered from somewhere in the balcony. A sudden peace broke and spread throughout her body as the tears slowed and dried. Comfort permeated her weary body. Wait.
“Forgive me, God,” Jules prayed. “I’ve failed to trust you. But, God, I don’t understand. I can’t comprehend your plan, but You know all. Please just guide me through. Please.”
She stood and found the tissue box close by. Settling on the front pew, she mopped the tears from her face and sat, breathing with her eyes closed. Wait. Yes. Wait and breathe. Wait and breathe and praise the Maker. Serve the Creator. Trust the Lord.
Jules opened her eyes. A shaft of light glowed on the baby grand at the front of the room. It was covered, yet the keyboard lay exposed. Taking a deep breath, a strong urge to touch the ivory keys took hold of her. Jules made her way to the piano and sank to the bench. Why partially uncovered? Placing her hands in position, she struck a single middle C note. The tone throbbed rich and full. It didn’t seem odd, loud or unwelcome. One note led to another, then a chord, a hymn, and finally a plethora of hymns pouring out praise and honor to God. It was long overdue. Long overdue. And her soul sang.
* * *
One day rolled into the next. Work was work. Jules cleaned her laundry at the disgusting laundromat. The house stood still, for the most part empty, and the grass grew and grew. Library school remained the only respite and, of course, Andi’s visits. But everything had changed. Fresher. Renewed. She’d wait and trust.
On Sunday, Jules dressed for church with care. Confronting herself in the mirror, she applied a small bit of make-up she’d purchased on one of her drives. It was time to pick up the pieces of her reality and move on, putting her best foot forward, and in this case, her best face. She refused to think it had anything to do with a particular blue-eyed man with a crooked smile who disarmed any rational thought. No, it was simply a step to redeem her life.
The same smiling couple greeted once again at church, and she rushed to the balcony, squelching the crazy hope for a sign of Andi and her father. But as she took her seat, watching everyone congregate, she wondered where the Carsens were. A few people she’d been introduced to came and shook hands with her and chit-chatted a few moments, but soon the pianist sat at the piano and began to play. Jules fidgeted in the pew and shrank lower. They weren’t coming.
But she shrugged it off and chose to concentrate on worshipping her Lord, whom she’d given so little time to in recent months. She closed her eyes during the singing and dwelt on the words as she sang them. The pastor imparted much to think about as the sermon centered on mercy. One particular point caused her to pause. God gave kindness to people when they deserved punishment. Mercy, God’s mercy. Such a phenomenal thing. Her heart soared.
When she arrived home, she knew what she had to do. After changing into her character pajama pants and a tank top, she padded into the bedroom on the right and opened the closet door. She reached up and brought down the wooden box with the face of Christ inset into the lid, a rainbow of different colored wood haloed His image. Tears clogged her throat. Her grandfather had fashioned it, passed it to her father and then to her.
Oh, it brought such memories. She rubbed a hand across the smooth finish. Memories of her Grandfather’s wrinkled hands upon the box filled her thoughts. Yet what lay inside was of greater treasure. Opening it, she caught her breath. Grandfather’s Bible. Glory, it had been a long time since she’d gazed on it.
She swiped tears, carried it to her air mattress, and snuggled into the blankets to read several chapters. Laying aside her Bible, she grew fuzzy with sleep and drifted off with a sense of complete serenity.
* * *
Monday, she started the lawnmower Rhett had repaired. The grass had grown high, and it proved to be a chore. Why was she doing this? She should’ve moved to an apartment where no yard upkeep was required. Yet, she wouldn’t have been happy. The sunlight, the yard, yes, even the mucky pond, gave her a bit of joy. She could hear the birds from inside her house, probably from lack of insulation, but still, it was cheerful all the same.
Rhett had kept the grass mowed for her the last couple of weeks. She found it strange he hadn’t been over to check as of late. Boy, was she getting spoiled. She certainly had no reason to lean upon Rhett to manicure her lawn. He was, after all, just a friend.
Still, odd he and his daughter hadn’t been at church. Jules wiped a sweaty lock of hair from her eyes and pushed the mower hard against the back fence to get as much tall grass as possible. It was doubtful they missed services very often. Jules’ bro
w puckered. Well, it wasn’t her business.
Jules gritted her teeth and shoved the stubborn machine harder. Immediately, the mower died. Frustration. Why, for once, couldn’t she get the lawn done by herself? She pulled it out of the tall grass to a section she’d already mowed and yanked the rope. Thankfully, it started. Jules finished the backyard and shut the stubborn thing off. Glancing at the taller grass against fence, she shrugged. She’d worry about that later.
Tugging the lawnmower into the ancient shed, she noticed the old manual garage door seemed unstable. Huh. Rhett had checked it a few weeks back. Maybe she’d knocked it off track when she fetched the mower. She shrugged and gave the machine a shove. She spun and wham. Stars.
Jules fell to her knees as her skull collided with the door on its way down. She gripped her head as a knot bulged on her forehead. Rubbing gently, she tried to stand up. Ice. She needed ice. Was there a telephone ringing nearby? Stumbling under the half-closed door, she made her way into the house.
Groaning, she found a few pieces of ice in the freezer and held them to the oversized swelling. She slid down the front of the cabinets to the kitchen floor, clutching the ice to her head, ignoring the water drops that fell.
A couple of small knocks sounded on glass. Peeking between her fingers, she caught sight of Andi through the sliding doors, grinning. Oh, not now. The child called her name and, of course, a large shadow loomed behind her. Rhett. Jules cringed. The door flew open.
“Jules?” His voice carried a note of alarm.
“Yes?” She tried to sound normal, but a croak gurgled out.
“Are you hurt?” Suddenly he appeared at her side pulling her hands from her face.
Jules nudged him away. “I’m fine.”
The next thing she knew, she floated across the room in Rhett’s arms.
Andi’s voice drifted to her from somewhere down below. “Is Jules okay, Daddy?”
“Well…we have to find out.” He set her gingerly in one of the lawn chairs. “Let me see, Jules.”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted, but flinched as he probed the bump on her forehead.
Reviving Jules Page 11
