The sun beats through the windshield as I pilot us to Calvary Church. Usually, the sunlight wakes me up and energizes me; I count on that as I head into the office every day. I’m too far gone for any rays to help me today.
Once I finally fell asleep, somewhere around two in the morning, my dreams were loaded with koi fish and green eyes and memories of sitting on the bluff and talking until our curfew hit. Images of dinners with smiling faces and visions of Mia tumbling along grass lawns invaded my dreams too. It was a compilation of the past, the present, and things that will never be. Each time I woke up, once an hour or so, the reality would hit me that none of those things were true, and it was tough getting back to sleep.
I slow the car and make a wide circle around Blue. He doesn’t bother to lift his head.
“It’s amazing no one has hit him,” I note.
“I said the same thing last week. The town ought to get a sign or something that warns people. Like a ‘Child Crossing’ sign or something.”
“Yeah, but really—how many people come down this street who don’t know to look for him? There’s nothing down here but a few houses, and all the families have lived here forever.”
“That’s true.”
I hit the brakes at the end of the street, and the dishes laid carefully on towels in the back jangle together.
“How many things are we taking to the potluck?” I look in the rearview mirror. “It smells like a kitchen in here.”
“It’s a carry-in, so I had to bring a covered dish.”
“You brought four? Five?”
“Well, I made green beans with bacon because no one ever brings vegetables to things like this. And everyone loves my green beans.”
I laugh. “Of course they do. You cook all the vitamins out and flavor them with bacon fat.”
“I don’t hear any complaints,” she says. “I whipped together a Seven Layer Salad and found the prettiest strawberries at Graber’s, so I made a strawberry pie for the kids.”
“Screw the kids. That’s mine.”
She shakes her head as we make the turn toward the church. “I also made a raisin pie.”
“Who likes raisin pie?” I curl my nose. “That’s old-people pie.”
Mom looks smug. “Mr. Rambis likes it.”
“Ooooh,” I tease. “Mr. Rambis likes it. What else does Mr. Rambis like, Mom?”
She swats my shoulder as I pull into the parking lot. “You knock it off. We’re at church, missy.”
“Like God doesn’t know all the unholy things you’re doing with Mr. Rambis. Ouch!” I say as she smacks me with her purse. “Kidding. I was kidding.”
We step into the parking lot. The large tree in the front still has the tire swing that my youth group put up forever ago hanging off a bottom limb. The front window has been changed, and a plain sheet of glass sits in place of the gorgeous stained glass I remember.
Mom catches me looking at it. “A limb fell off the tree a few summers back and went right through that window. Such a shame.”
“It is. It was so pretty,” I lament. “I used to sit through the sermons and count the different colors.”
It’s such a small thing, really, a tiny change in the grand scheme of things. But as I peer up to the spot that used to be so colorful and is now a sheet of plain old glass, I wonder what else I missed. The things I can’t see so easily.
There’s a part of me that suddenly feels vacant, like there’s an empty space that should’ve been filled with all this knowledge and these experiences—as silly as they are. I stand on the sidewalk trying to make sense of this until the church bell rings.
“Hey!” I call after Mom. “What are we doing with the food?”
“Leave the car unlocked, and someone will come out and get it in a bit.”
I stop in my tracks. “Leave it unlocked? Seriously? What if someone steals it?”
She’s unfazed, just laughs at my serious questions and heads up the stairs without me. Throwing my hands in the air, muttering that it’s her car, I follow.
The entry is full of parishioners. Everyone I pass stops to say hello, many asking how I’m doing and asking me to visit more often. I don’t expect the outpouring of love, and it catches me a little off guard.
I enter the sanctuary and spy my mother talking to Mr. Rambis and Lorene, the woman who’s played the piano here my entire life, near the front. Scanning the rest of the quaint little country church, my eyes fall on Dane and Mia near the piano. Gripping the end of a pew, I try to look away but can’t.
He’s in a pair of gray dress pants and a crisp white button-down. Mia is adorable in a yellow dress with pink lace at the edges. Matt stands next to them. He bends down and whispers something to Mia, making her laugh. I laugh, too, even though I have no idea what’s transpired.
“He cleans up pretty well, huh?” Claire comes up beside me.
“He’s not bad.” I can’t stop myself from smiling.
“Not bad? I don’t know what they look like up in New York, but around here, that’s the top of the food chain.”
“Food chain?” I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, Claire.”
She shrugs. “You sticking around for the potluck?”
“I’m with Mom and she made forty million things, so apparently. Are you?”
“No. A girl I’m going to school with is having a baby shower this afternoon, so I’m cutting out after the service. Wanna go?”
My gaze drifts back to Dane. He’s found me in the crowd and gives me a little wave. I wave back in the most “I haven’t been thinking about you all night” kind of way I can.
“I better stay with Mom,” I say, turning my attention back to Claire.
“Can I just say she and Mr. Rambis are adorable?”
“How long has this been going on? I mean, I’m happy she’s dating or whatever it is, but I can’t tell if it’s serious.”
“Well, they sit together every week. Have for a while now. Since Christmas, I’d say.”
“Wow.”
“He mows her lawn a lot. I know that. My brother used to do it, but she didn’t need help this year.”
I look at Claire. “She’s baking him pie.”
“Is that an innuendo, or she’s actually baking him dessert?”
Laughing, I try to cover my mouth with my hand. “Actual pie, Claire.”
“Well, we are in the South. You get a casserole for everything. I can’t help but think a pie might be some kind of moral woman’s subtle cue. Like, ‘Here, sir. Try my pie.’” Claire bursts into a fit of giggles. “I need to go find a seat before I buy myself a ticket to Hell.”
“Good to see you, Claire.”
“Back at ya.”
I start down the aisle toward my mother, my cheeks flushed as I think of her using dessert as a sexual invitation, when Mia runs up to me. “Hi, Neely! I didn’t know you would be here.”
“Hey,” I say. “You look pretty today.”
“Thanks. So do you.” She smiles sweetly. “Want to sit with me and Dad?”
“Well . . .” I look up at her father. He and Matt are still talking, but both are watching me. There’s a pull across the church that draws me to the other side. I give in. “Let’s go say hello and then I’ll see. Sound good?”
“Yup.” She leads the way across the front of the church, past the piano, and to her family.
Matt whistles softly. “You look pretty this morning.”
“Why, thank you,” I tell him. “It’s my mother’s dress.” I pick at the oversize belt around my waist that’s partially an accessory and partially to make the thing fit. “How are you guys doing this morning?”
Before they can answer, Mia chimes in. “I’m going to go say hi to Keyarah and Madison. I’ll be back before the piano starts playing.” She darts to the back of the church, where her friends have just arrived.
Matt pulls at the collar of his shirt. “It’s hot in here. I’m going to get some water.”
Dane leans against the windowsill that looks over the back of the church. The view over his shoulder is almost as wonderful as he is. Foliage extends forever, dipping and rising with the hills. It’s the kind of view that’s inspired paintings for thousands of years.
“I didn’t know you’d be here today,” Dane says just loud enough for me to hear.
I pull my gaze away from the trees to him. “Mom didn’t give me much choice,” I admit. “But I probably would’ve come anyway. I’ve always liked this place.”
“Yeah. Me too. It’s why we don’t let Penn come. We don’t want it to burst into flames.”
Laughing, I feel my shoulders relax. “Are you staying for the potluck?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s the best Sunday in the month. These ladies know how to cook.”
The piano starts playing, alerting us to take our seats. Dane moves toward me. He hesitates, biting his lip before blowing out a breath. “Do you want to sit with us?”
My heart leaps in my chest as a clear indication I do. I want to sit with them. I want to sit with them so badly it actually hurts.