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“Please. Sit down.” Meg patted the wooden pew beside her.
Rachel made her way down the row and sat down. Both women faced forward. Neither of them spoke.
Meg usually preferred quiet but found it a little unnerving. Not unlike that morning when Chet didn’t hound her with questions or try to get her to talk while they ran.
“I hope it’s okay that I came in.” Even at almost a whisper, Meg’s voice echoed through the air.
“Of course it’s okay. Pastor Jake likes to leave the door open until about nine o’clock. The church is for the community so the community should be able to come and be here anytime they want.”
“That’s nice.”
They were both still facing forward, but out of the corner of her eye, Meg could see Rachel nod.
There was quiet again between them. Meg thought of how church was one of the few places where two people could sit without speaking and it wasn’t considered odd. Something about the atmosphere, along with Rachel’s presence, caused Meg to relax.
“Are you here every night?” she asked Rachel.
“No. Pastor Jake is here in his office every day except Monday, which is his day off. We have a group of volunteers like me who take turns being here after hours.”
“Making sure things stay safe.”
Rachel looked at her and smiled. “Something like that.” She faced forward again.
“I’m not sure why I even came in. I was just walking by. The church bells rang and got my attention…”
“I love that sound.”
Meg nodded. “I was walking home from work and just thinking…” She shook her head.
“I find I do quite a bit of my best thinking when I go for walks.”
“It’s just that Franklin my fry cook—well, head chef he prefers to be called—got talking to me today about not living life alone.”
Rachel nodded but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t know. I’m not alone. I have friends. People I care about.”
“Caring friends are always good to have.”
“And I don’t mind living alone.”
“I’m not so sure living alone and living a lonely life are the same thing.” Rachel turned and looked at her. “I live alone in that it’s just me in my apartment. And I like that. It’s my space.My place to relax. But maybe what Franklin was talking about was living a lonely life.”
Meg nodded. “I think everyone defines that differently though.”
Rachel tilted her head for a moment before looking forward again. “Maybe.”
Meg dug her hands deep into her coat pockets. She studied Rachel’s profile for a moment. “Hannah said you are a volunteer chaplain. What does that mean exactly?”
Rachel chuckled. “I get that question a lot. I have the same education as a pastor, but I’m not about preaching every Sunday or leading a church.” She shrugged. “For me, I’m just here if you need me.”
“Isn’t that the definition of a friend? You don’t need a special education for that, do you?”
Rachel laughed again. “No. But I am trained to be with people in crisis. I’ve sat with people as they mourn a loved one. I’ve listened to the elderly who are alone with no family or friends. Most of them just want company. I guess I’m sort of a professional listener.” She smiled at Meg. “I work with the police and fire department as well. First responders see a lot that is tough to carry through life. I listen when they need to vent or process.”
Meg’s spine stiffened against the back of the wooden pew. “Who listens to you?”
“I love that question,” Rachel said. “I have my people. A wonderful therapist and friends who I lean on when I need them.”
