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Jake stared at the closed door, knowing they weren't okay and wondering what he could do about it. Maybe nothing. Eva was right. He was who he'd always been.
He could carry on as he’d always done. Simple as that.
THE NEXT EVENINGEva took Charlie to a special service at First Presbyterian and learned that hard church pews, long choir programs, and seven-year old little boys did not mix.
"Stop," she hissed for the twenty-second time in the past hour as Charlie kicked a steady rhythm on the back of the pew in front of them. Mildred Chandler sent a scowl over her shoulder before straightening her old crow shoulders and issuing a harrumph.
Old hag.
"Did you say something?" Shelby Beauchamp whispered, popping a pacifier into her infant daughter's mouth.
"Uh, no." Eva pressed her lips together, wondering if she was going cuckoo in the third row of the Magnolia Bend First Pres Church. She didn't think she'd uttered the insult out loud, but she was so damn tired she couldn't remember. Sleep had been as elusive as an antelope flying across the Serengeti. If it wasn't Charlie crying out from his wet bed, it was the memory of Jake's face as he walked away from her the night before.
He'd looked so defeated, and something inside her had broken loose. For so long she'd wanted exactly what he'd offered and what had she done? She'd shoved the chance for something more with Jake away like week-old meatloaf. And why?
Because.
Jake had nailed it- she was scared. Scared all she'd built would topple, scattering ruin around her. She'd worked too hard to build something she was proud of here, and the thought of losing it made her feel sick. And then there was the daddy issue. Her father had been so similar to Jake, passionate about saving people, but unable to stick with any woman. Like so many other women, she'd allowed her heart to chase after a man so similar to the one she'd tried desperately to please. The whole thing was so messed up.
"I'm glad you came tonight,” Shelby whispered as Ricky Hebert sang a rich baritone solo about gathering the fruit of the vine.
"Sure."
"I forgot about Charlie when I sent you that email, but it's good you brought him, too. They have cookies and punch after the concert," Shelby said, sliding her eyes toward Charlie, who wriggled like a worm in hot ashes.
Her brother froze and whispered, "Cookies?"
Shelby nodded, a smile on her pretty face, as she switched Lindsay Rebecca to her other arm. The baby pulled out her pacifier and screeched. "Daaaaa!"
"Shhh!" Shelby said, plopping the pacifier back into the child's mouth before turning to Eva, her blue eyes filled with excitement. "Did you hear that? She just said Daddy."
Mildred cast another disapproving glare over her shoulder.
"Sorry, Mrs. Chandler," Shelby whispered, leaning up to the battle-ax's ear. "Linds just said her first word."
The older woman managed a smile and nod before shifting her attention back to the concert where Shelby's husband, John, stood in the back row of the choir. His gaze found Shelby and Lindsay, and his face lit up. John looked the most like Jake, except he was taller, a bit rangier, and way more reserved. A steady man, he'd turned the corner on grief with the help of the curvy woman sitting next to Eva. Shelby was akin to sunshine on a dark day, and the town had taken to her like a duck to water. If a person decided not to like her, she'd wear them down with unapologetic humor and cheer.
Finally, the concert ended and Charlie leaped from the bench. He nearly knocked Peter Haas down at the end of the row in his quest for cookies, which were being served in the fellowship hall connected to the sanctuary.
"Sorry, Mr. Haas,” Eva said, patting the ancient usher on his sharp elbow.
"That's all right. The little fellow must be thirsty," he said with a lift of his caterpillar eyebrows.
"That and lacking in manners. I'm working on them,” Eva said, moving through the light crowd lining the entrance, spying her brother, who already had a glass of punch and was in the process of shoveling cookies onto his plate.
"Hey, slow down, Charlie. You don't need any more than that," she said, curving a hand over his shoulder.
"I'm hungry. I didn't like that spaghetti junk you made."
She sighed and then took the tongs from her brother. "Tough stuff. Now hand me those two cookies and go sit over there next to Will and Wyatt."
Charlie's eyes lit up. "They're here, too? Where?"
Eva pointed out the two boys, sitting at a table noshing on cookies and turned right into Sara Richter, the mother of the little boy who had come to Charlie's birthday party. Her son, Drew, was in Charlie's class, and from what Eva understood he sat with her brother every day at lunch.
"Hi, Sara," Eva said, wrapping the two cookies she'd taken from Charlie's plate into a napkin and tucking them in her purse. She would put them in Charlie's lunch tomorrow. "Thanks for letting Drew come to Charlie's birthday party. The boys had lots of fun."
"Yeah, I needed to talk to you about that. Do you have a minute?"
