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Derek’s smile returned. “Reny’s,” he said with sincere affection.

Ah, Reny’s. Maine’s own department store chain. Brent hadn’t been there in years.

“Rachel took me.”

“That’s nice.” Brent pivoted to try to get away and came face to face with Pastor.

Wow. Maybe going to church wasn’t worth the hassle.

Adam gave his shoulder a hearty shake. “How are things going?”

Brent didn’t want to answer the question he was really asking. “Good.”

Adam tipped his head like a curious kitten. “Are you still ... you know?”

Brent sighed. “I am, but I’ve sort of hit pause.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Uh ... I got some advice from this woman who I guess is like a romance expert, and she told me to make a mixed tape—”

Adam snorted. “Seriously?”

Great. Like he didn’t have enough doubts already. “Well, a mixed CD. Anyway, I’ve been putting it together, but I might have been putting far too much thought into which songs to use.”

“Ah!” Adam nodded knowingly. “Well, how many songs are you going to include?”

He shrugged. “Was just trying to fill up the CD.”

Adam sucked in air so fast that he whistled.

“What?”

“Maybe that’s too many.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you only have to choose a few, then it’s not so hard, right?”

Brent wasn’t so sure. Sammy really liked music. He wanted to get this right. “So you think maybe ... twenty songs?”

Adam’s eyes widened a little. “Maybe ten?” He backed away slowly and looked at the clock. “Keep me posted!”

The organist started to play. Oh good. The service was always more pleasant than the before and after chitchat. Brent found his seat in the back of the sanctuary and opened his hymnal. This church sang a nice combination of old and new songs. The new ones were easier to sing and understand, but there was something cool about the older ones. They made him feel as though he was part of something. A tradition, but more powerful than that. Made him feel like he was part of history, part of God’s story in this area of the world.

Maybe he should put a hymn or two on the mixed tape. He almost chuckled at the thought. Not exactly romantic, but still he liked the idea. It would give the collection more depth, more meaning. And then even if she decided to spurn his affection, he’d still have delivered a message worth hearing.

Yes, he was going to put a hymn or two, or maybe three, onto the CD. He started flipping through the hymnal looking for ones that might work. He didn’t recognize most of them by title, so he read the first lines too.

“Fight the good fight with all thy might ...” Probably not.

“Go to dark Gethsemane ...”Yikes.Not that one.

“God of pity ...” Nope.

“How beauteous are their feet ...” Probably not that one either.

He smirked at the first line of “The Love of God”: Far beyond all human comprehension.

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