Unlikely Praise Page 15

  “It’s not,” she said.

  “Not what?”

  “Not better.” She laughed. “I can still hear them.”

  They walked along the side of the building, guided only by filtered beams that shone down from the floodlights at each corner.

  “They weren’t that bad,” Shade said. “Individually they seemed to know what they were doing, but they weren’t playing as a group. There was no cohesiveness.”

  “That could come in time,” she agreed, “but they’re inexperienced and haven’t learned that repetitive chord progressions do not necessarily make a song, and loud is not necessarily better.”

  He slowed his steps when he realized they were getting further away from the sound, further away from the light. “Where we going, anyway?”

  She took his hand. “C’mon, I want to show you something.”

  Around the next corner, a pond came into view. The rays from a single spotlight on a pole illuminated the water.

  “This explains all the croaking,” he said with relief. “I thought that band had burst my left eardrum, and I was hearing things.”

  “I could catch one of those big ol’ bullfrogs.”

  “And you could fall in the pond trying to do that in the dark.”

  She tore her hand from his and hopped across a series of two-by-six boards and onto a narrow dock.

  “Is that thing safe?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. C’mon out. I believe they use this pond for good, old-fashioned baptisms because this little church doesn’t have a baptistery.”

  Shade studied the boards before he leaped. One false move and he could be accidentally participating in some kind of baptism of his own. Date over.

  He stepped onto the pier and followed her to the end. She studied every ripple in the water and searched for every kerplunk from a hiding frog. “You’re just a country girl, aren’t you?”

  She turned and rested her hands on her hips as she gazed up at him. “Yeah, I guess I am. And I really like the water.”

  “Do you like the ocean, or just the country ponds?”

  “Ponds...streams...lakes...babbling brooks...”

  He always intended to kiss her tonight, but he’d planned to do it later when they said goodnight; after they’d had some more time together, after he’d told her everything about Rachel. But how was he supposed to resist her by a moonlit pond when everything in her expressive green eyes said she was glad to be there with him?

  He couldn’t.

  His lips caught hers in a tender embrace amidst a chorus of harmonizing bullfrogs, buzzing mosquitoes, and the bass line of the world’s worst band thumping in the distance.

  Another sound crept into his brain. It was like a massive pipe organ playing Bach.

  He stepped back. “What is that noise?”

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t go near those tacos.”

  He burst out laughing. “No, it sounds like a cell phone. I don’t think we’re out here alone.”

  She inclined her ear. “Oh. Oh! It’s my cell phone.” She rummaged in her pocket. “Normally I wouldn’t answer at a time like this, but that’s the pastor’s ringtone and he never calls me unless it’s urgent.”

  She smashed the phone to her ear. “Hello? Yes?” She paced the width of the boards and paused to rest her hand on what was left of a broken rail. “When?” She paced back. “I’ll go by there and check on him and call you later...no, I want to. I’ll let you know.”

  She closed her phone and turned it over and over in her hands. “Wild Bill either had a heart attack or a stroke. He’s unconscious, and they’re trying to keep him stable and run tests. Pastor Charles and the rest of the ministry team are on their way back from an all-day workshop and dinner on the southwest side of Houston. I said I’d go by the ER and check on him.”

  Shade pulled the keys from his pocket. “Let’s go.” He wrapped his arm around her and rushed her off the dock and toward the car.

  “I’m sorry, Shade, I know this isn’t what you had in mind. I know we had things to talk about over dinner and—”

  “This is not something you have to apologize for, Candi.” He pushed her in the car. “We can talk tomorrow. Put your seatbelt on.”

  “I know. I’m just worried about Bill. His wife must be frantic.”

  He raced to the driver’s side and turned the key. “You’ll be there soon and we can pray for him.”

  “I know,” she said again and took his hand. “I’m calm, now. I know God has it all under control.”

  “Good.” He met her gaze before pulling onto the road. “It’ll be OK.”

  And when they were sure it was, he’d kiss her again.

  10

  From: Pastor Charles Littleton

  [mailto:pastorcharles@crnrstone-chrch.org]

  Sent: Sunday, May 03 5:38 AM

  To: Candi Canaberry

  CC: Shade Blackledge

  Subject: Thanks

  Candi and Shade:

  Thank you for being there for Bill and his family. We’ll talk later today.

  Charles

  Candi joined the rest of the team on the platform as they prepared for worship. “I know you’re all concerned about Bill,” she said as they gathered around. “So here’s the latest information Pastor Charles got from his wife this morning.”

  She met each anxious gaze as she glanced around the circle. “Bill had a mild stroke. It was caused by a clot and not an aneurysm. That’s good because a stroke caused by a clot is easier to manage than a stroke caused by a brain hemorrhage. Am I right, Carol Ann?”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “Is he conscious?” Max asked.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s conscious all right. The doctors can’t keep him still to run tests.”

  “Sounds like Wild Bill,” Kevin said. “Can we see him?”

  “Right now he’s got a lot of family coming and going. You can text his wife and see if he’s up for a visitor. I’ve got her number if you need it.”

  “And I’ll be checking on him at the hospital,” Carol Ann added. “I can keep you all posted from there, though it sounds like he won’t be staying long.”

  Kelly removed a guitar pick from between her lips and slid it in her pocket. “Do we know what happened?”

  “What I hear from his daughter,” Candi answered, “is that he was watching the Astros game and his wife noticed some odd behavior. That’s as far as we got in the conversation before she had to go.”

  “Bill never misses an Astros game,” Rocky chimed in. “Bet he fought that clot off until the seventh inning stretch.”

  Candi caught Shade’s gaze in the gentle ripple of laughter that followed. Last night had been complicated, but when she let the worry and fear about Bill’s condition fall away, she thought only of the romantic kiss at the pond and the extraordinary way Shade stepped up for her and for Bill’s family.

  She’d done the crisis thing alone in the past. Now after their tag-team efforts to comfort scared loved ones and keep the coffee warm, going it alone seemed empty and difficult. By the time she’d unlocked her own door at two-thirty in the morning, she’d decided she had no idea why she ever thought keeping to herself was a good idea.

  She urged the group to tighten the circle. “We need to pray.” She grabbed Kevin’s hand to her left and Carol Ann’s to her right. “I’ll start and you all can jump in and add your prayers for Bill before we close.”

  “I hate popcorn prayers,” Kelly whined. “It’s too much pressure.”

  “It’s not a popcorn prayer. You don’t have to say anything out loud if you don’t want to.”

  “What’s a popcorn prayer?” Shade asked.

  “It’s when you quickly take turns and start talking as soon as someone stops,” Kevin offered. “You know, like popcorn taking off in the popper.”

  “It’s not a popcorn prayer,” Candi repeated.

  “Should there be such a thing as a popcorn prayer?” Roc
ky rubbed his chin like a professor before taking Kelly’s hand. He gazed at the ceiling as if pondering a great mystery. “Shouldn’t a prayer, by definition, be well thought out and earnest? Can you achieve that depth of sincerity in a popcorn prayer atmosphere?”

  Max nodded. “That’s a good question. I wonder if popcorn prayers are pleasing to God.”

  Candi’s right eye started to twitch. “Really? You’re seriously going to yank my chain on a morning like this when we’re all worried about Bill, and I’ve had three hours of sleep?”

  Shade dipped his head to hide his laughter. It didn’t work.

  “Sorry,” Max snorted.

  “Me, too,” Rocky added. “But I say we pick this discussion up at lunch.”

  “I can’t do lunch today,” Carol Ann said. “My mom’s had a rough couple of days, and I need to get home.”

  “Sorry,” Candi said. “We’ll pray for her, too.”

  “Thanks. And Shade, can you meet me by my truck right after service? I have something for you.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Candi closed her weary eyes. “Let’s pray.”

  ****

  Shade snapped his guitar case and tried to catch Candi before she left the platform. As usual for a Sunday morning, she’d been all business. Nothing about her steady expression gave him any indication if their abbreviated and mixed-up date had been a success or a failure.

  “Hey.” He touched her arm as she gathered her things.

  Her glad-to-see-you smile told him everything. “Hey, yourself.” She settled her music and her Bible in the crook of her arm. “Are you as tired as I am?”

  “Hunger has edged out exhaustion. Are you up for lunch? The others are expecting us to meet them.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I need a minute to talk to you before we go, OK?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve gotta run and see what Carol Ann wants so she can leave, but I’ll meet you out front. I got my truck back. I’ll drive.”

  He stepped out into the bright, early afternoon sun. Carol Ann had pulled her black Silverado up next to the Del Rio Destroyer. Everyone in Texas had a nicer truck than he did.

  Carol Ann got out, dropped the tailgate, and started to wrestle a large box from the bed of her truck.

  He set down his case and rushed to help her. “Whatcha got?”

  “Rocky said you might need this.” She slid the box to the edge and turned it so he could see the label.

  Shade scanned the words. Classic wood high chair...natural oak finish...removable dishwasher-safe tray…machine-washable seat pad...

  “You’ll have to put it together,” she continued, with a smile as big as Texas, “but I think you can handle that.”

  “It’s great, Carol Ann, and I really need it, but you didn’t have to...how did you know?”

  “Oh, honey, it was a total God thing. Rocky was at the hospital for his shoulder therapy and we happened to end up chatting beside the employee bulletin board in the hallway. Some very-blessed charge nurse got three of these at her shower and couldn’t return this one. Rocky snatched the index card off the wall and, well, here we are. He says I should be looking for a stroller, next.”

  Shade tried to swallow past the unexpected lump in his throat. Once again, his newfound family had blessed him beyond expectation, and once again, God had heard his silent cry for help. His business was growing, but so were his expenses.

  Though he and Jess were doing well so far in their tentative arrangements for Rachel, the financial issues were bound to come up soon. There were business ads to pay for, supplies he needed, and he was starting to realize he couldn’t wear his dad’s thirty-year-old clothes forever. Especially if he was going to seriously pursue a relationship with Candi. At some point, he’d have to buy a pair of real dress pants. And who was he trying to kid? Though the Del Rio Destroyer had received yet another lease on life from Max’s friend, it was only a matter of time before it died for good.

  He transferred the box from her truck to his and returned for a hug. “Thanks, Carol Ann. This baby thing is all new to me. I appreciate your help.”

  “No need to thank me,” she said with a squeeze. “But I do want to get my hands on that sweet little baby. Will you be able to bring her to church soon?”

  “What baby?”

  Candi’s voice landed soft in his ears as if from a dream somewhere. The consequence of her discovery settled with a sickening thud in his gut. He stepped out of Carol Ann’s embrace and glanced at each woman. He didn’t know who to fix things with first.

  Carol Ann’s wide smile evaporated into despair while Candi’s expression did not even look like shock. Only hurt and betrayal were etched on her face.

  “I’m so sorry,” Carol Ann said with a gasp. “I didn’t realize the baby was a secret. I’ve messed everything up.”

  “What baby?”

  “No, Carol Ann, you didn’t mess anything up. The baby, Rachel, is not a secret. Everything is just so new, it’s taken time to fill everyone in on the details. I didn’t meet her myself until last Sunday.” He turned his attention toward Candi. “This is what I’ve been trying to talk to you about—”

  “I’ll see you at practice, Carol Ann,” Candi said and offered a stiff smile. Then she turned and headed back into the church.

  Shade rushed to help Carol Ann into her truck. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix this.”

  “I didn’t know...”

  “Not your fault. It’s my fault, and I’ll straighten it out. Please don’t worry about this.” He slammed the door and grasped the half-open window. “Thanks again for the high chair.”

  Shade ran inside and slid to a stop in the narthex, surprising the last of the worshippers as they prepared to leave the building.

  She wasn’t in the office. She wasn’t in the sanctuary. He headed down the hall to the Sunday school classrooms and caught a glimpse of her stunned, robotic movements as she turned into the church’s small kitchen. She slammed the door behind her.

  He grabbed the doorknob. Locked. “C’mon, Candi,” he said and pounded on the door. “Let me in, we need to talk.” He pounded again. “I’m not leaving.”

  He didn’t know much about the building, but seemed to recall there were two doors to the kitchen. He knew this because he and Kevin had raided the pantry one night after practice and consumed six boxes of animal crackers he was sure were meant for the three and four-year-old Sunday school class. Kevin had explained the cookies had surpassed their expiration date and were being discarded anyway, so it was not really the sin of theft. It was more like they were helping with the disposal of food not fit for children.

  He darted down the corridor and through the youth room to the other door. He heard the click-clack of her heels on the other side and seized the knob just before she could lock it.

  He gently pushed it open. The last thing he needed on top of everything else was to knock her in the head.

  “Go away, Shade.” She grazed her fingertips across the stainless steel counter as she stepped to the other side of the island.

  “I’m not going anywhere until we settle this.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything to settle. You obviously have this entire secret life going on and everyone knows about it but me. That pretty much tells me we don’t have anything to say to each other. Especially considering there’s a child involved. That’s not the kind of thing you keep from someone, Shade.”

  “I was not trying to keep anything from you.” His words were slow and deliberate. “There was no secret. Her name is Rachel, and she’s six months old. I only met her last Sunday and spent my first hour alone with her on Thursday. Pastor Charles knew because of the times we talked when I first came here. The guys knew because I asked them to pray about it. Carol Ann found out because Rocky said something. I’ve been trying to tell you. I tried last night and I’ve been trying today.”

  “Get over yourself, Shade.” She waved her arms in the air. “How hard is it to
say, ‘oh, by the way, I have a baby...?’ I would think that would be one of the first things you’d disclose to a person you want to ask out on a date.” Her words got louder with each sentence and bounced off the crisp white tile in rippling echoes around the room. “And how is it this didn’t come up in the truck that night? It’s a huge part of the whole story.” She scrubbed her hands across her face. “I don’t get it. I don’t know why you wouldn’t trust me with this information. This may not be important to you, but I need to know the person I was kissing at the pond.” She yanked her purse from beside the sink and fought to pick up her music from the slippery counter. “Never mind. This is my fault. I should’ve never let this get personal. I should have known better.” She stomped to the door and wrestled with the knob.

  “Candi, don’t go. You can’t run away every time we need to fix something.”

  She gave up on the door and dumped all her things on the floor. “We can’t fix this,” she yelled and spun around. “This is a huge breach of trust for me.”

  “You want to make this about trust? How about how you don’t trust me?”

  She marched back to the center of the room. “I think my trust in you is evident in my willingness to spend time with you and get to know you. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have believed the things you told me.”

  “It’s not what I told you. It’s what you didn’t tell me.”

  “Don’t make this about me,” she snapped back. “You’re the one with the secret baby.”

  “And you’re the one with the secret father.”

  The color drained from her face.

  He softened his tone. “I know who he is, Candi. I know all about it. I’ve asked you about your parents, I’ve hinted I thought I recognized your name from Austin, I’ve watched you squirm when the subject comes up, and I’ve watched you actively avoid any mention of where your father is, now.”

  Her shoulders sagged and she wilted against a cabinet as if she needed support. “My father is a crook and a liar, and it’s perfectly understandable why I wouldn’t share that information easily with someone I just met.”