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As soon as she got home, he knew she'd take off that ugly dress and slip into one of her new pairs of shorts and a top that showed off too much. And he wouldn't be there to see it because she'd made it more than clear that she didn't want him at her condo. No more home-cooked meals, no more dropping by to spill out his troubles about an unreasonable parishioner. Jeez, he missed her. He missed his friend.
He stared at her empty desk and thought about how she'd gone out to dinner with Mike Reedy again last night. That was twice now. On Saturday, Mike had taken her to a restaurant in Cashiers, and last night they'd eaten in the Mountaineer's dining room. Three people in the congregation had made sure he found out about it.
She wasn't back yet, and his skin grew clammy. He knew where she kept her purse. In the bottom left drawer, along with a small box of tissues and a first-aid kit. All his life, even during his wild days, he'd tried to behave honorably, and what he wanted to do wasn't honorable at all, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.
He shot across the office, jerked open the drawer, and pulled out her purse, the same little black number she'd taken to the Mountaineer last week when they'd had their disastrous conversation and she'd told him he wasn't her friend.
A real minister, someone who wasn't so flawed, someone with a true calling, would never do this. He flipped open the catch and looked inside. Wallet, comb, Tic Tacs, some makeup, car keys, a Daily Word devotional book. No condom.
He heard her footsteps, shoved the purse back in the drawer, and pulled out the first-aid kit.
"Is something wrong?"
A few minutes earlier, the expression of concern on her face would have lightened his mood, but not now. "Just a headache."
"Go sit down. I'll bring you some aspirin."
He handed her the first-aid kit and, for the first time all week, she started fussing over him, bringing him a glass of water, giving him the aspirin, asking if he'd gotten enough sleep last night. Unfortunately, her fussing didn't feel nearly as good as it should have because he couldn't remember a single time when she'd mentioned a headache and he'd brought her aspirin.
What had happened to that condom? Just the thought of her passing it over to Mike Reedy made him feel sick. Part of him knew he should be happy that she might have found someone, but not Mike Reedy, even though he'd always liked Mike and couldn't think of a single thing wrong with him, except that he shouldn't be making love with Kristy Brown.
After he'd swallowed the aspirin he didn't need, he gazed at her and wondered why it had taken him so long to notice how pretty she was. Not in a flashy way, even when she got dressed up, but in a quiet, sweet way.
"You know the drive-in's opening Friday night," he found himself saying.
"I just hope someone shows up. A lot of people in town are angry with Gabe for helping Rachel, and they're talking about a boycott." Kristy looked worried. "People can be so mean."
He spoke casually. "We both want to be at the drive-in on Friday night when it opens, so why don't I pick you up at eight?"
Kristy stared at him. "You want to go to the drive-in together?"
"Sure. How else are we going to show Gabe our support?"
The telephone rang on his desk. Kristy studied it for a moment before she finally picked it up. He soon realized she was talking to Patty Wells, the coordinator of the day-care center.
"Yes, Ethan's here. Of course. Send Edward right up, Patty."
She replaced the receiver and frowned. "He's been asking all morning to come talk to you. Patty tried to distract him, but he wouldn't give up. I hope nothing's wrong."
Both of them had been around Edward long enough to know that he never demanded anything, and they shared a wordless moment of concern.
Kristy returned to the outer office, and, a few minutes later, showed Edward in. She gave Ethan a worried look, one of a hundred they'd shared over the years when she'd ushered a troubled parishioner into his office. Then she retreated.
"You can shut the door if you want some privacy," Ethan said.
Edward hesitated and looked out at Kristy. Ethan knew how fond he was of her; and he was surprised when Edward pressed the door closed with both hands. Whatever was on his mind was obviously serious stuff.
Ethan had never liked the impersonality of talking across a desk, and he walked around to a small seating area near the window that held a couch and two comfortable chairs.
Edward climbed up onto the middle cushion of the couch and slid back into the seat, which made his legs stick out in front of him. He had a smear of red paint on the toe of one sneaker. Ethan had noticed how clean Rachel kept his worn clothes, which led him to believe the paint had come from that morning's art project.
Edward automatically reached out for something at his side, and, when he encountered only air, scratched his elbow. The stuffed rabbit, Ethan guessed.
"What's on your mind, Edward?"
"Gabe's a big liar. He says he's your brother."
Ethan began to correct him, but the deep unhappiness in the boy's expression made him hesitate. "Why do you think he's lying?"
