Probably.
Brandon rolled down the window on the passenger’s side. “We’re still friends. Right?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Good, I’ll see you Monday then.” He backed out of the drive.
Sprocket nudged me with his wet nose. I looked down into the big brown eyes. If only dogs could talk, I was sure he’d ask me what was wrong. I rubbed his ears and headed into the house.
****
Sunday morning dawned overcast and stormy. I dressed, in my best navy blue dress with matching shoes, had two cups of coffee, and Crunch cereal. Now all I had to do was get in my car and go to Mitzi’s church. Not mine. Mitzi’s.
I felt guilty. We didn’t attend services together, and now that she was gone, I was going to her place of worship. I opened the trunk of my car and pulled out an umbrella–the one Mitzi gave me a few years ago. It features kittens dancing in the rain. I love it.
Rain splashed against the windshield. I pulled into the parking lot of the church and sat for several minutes praying the downpour would lighten up so I could dash inside.
The church wasn’t very big. It reminded me of the country churches you see in paintings. This one sits on the outskirts of town and is very soothing to the senses. Even in the rain, it looked inviting.
At this rate, I would spend the whole service in my car. I opened the door and got the umbrella up and over my head but not without getting wet. I yanked my bible from the passenger seat, thankful I’d invested in a nice cover, and tucked it against my chest. I hitched my purse over my shoulder, and then I ran for the entrance.
The wind caught my umbrella, the mud grabbed my shoes, and suddenly I was looking up at raindrops as they fell from the sky. I should have stayed home.
“Here let me help you up.” The door greeter must have seen me go down because now he stood over me holding out a hand. I could only pray my dress wasn’t up over my thighs. That just isn’t ladylike.
Heat filled my cheeks as he pulled me up. The umbrella lay at my feet, and I still clutched the Bible to my chest. I picked up my once beautiful umbrella.
“Come on in. We’ll have one of the ladies assist you.”
He was already pulling me inside. By the time I got my bearings, I was standing in the entryway, dripping on beautiful hardwood floors. A woman stood watching me with concern in her eyes. “I think I’d like to go home.” I turned to go back out the door.
“Nonsense, you’re already here. I’ll help you dry off, and you’ll be as good as new. I’m Lori Haywood.”
I looked into the kindest grey eyes I’d ever seen. Lori smiled and gently took my arm and led me into a small room off the sanctuary.
What could I do? I was already inside, and to go back out in sopping wet clothes wasn’t something I looked forward to. I sighed. “I’m Claire Parker.”
“Ms. Parker, this is the room right off the baptistery. I think we’ll be able to find you some fresh clothes in here.” She was already digging in a closet.
The thought of wearing borrowed clothes bothered me, but so did the thought of driving home and sitting in mud and water as I did so. “I really don’t mean to be so much bother.”
“You’re no trouble at all. See those?” She pointed at two dresses hanging on a clothes bar. They were nice dresses but they were also dripping on the floor.
I nodded.
“Those belong to Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Franks. The church bus splashed both of them as it arrived this morning. That’s why we have extra clothes here.” She handed me a sweater and a skirt.
They have people getting splashed by the church bus every Sunday? I shook the thought from my head as I prayed the clothes would fit.
“That, and we also have a clothes ministry. Come over here, and you can change in private. I’ll wait outside the door.” She smiled at me and left.
I quickly changed out of my soiled outfit and slipped into the blouse and skirt. With my own ruined clothes I wiped the water and mud
Brandon rolled down the window on the passenger’s side. “We’re still friends. Right?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Good, I’ll see you Monday then.” He backed out of the drive.
Sprocket nudged me with his wet nose. I looked down into the big brown eyes. If only dogs could talk, I was sure he’d ask me what was wrong. I rubbed his ears and headed into the house.
****
Sunday morning dawned overcast and stormy. I dressed, in my best navy blue dress with matching shoes, had two cups of coffee, and Crunch cereal. Now all I had to do was get in my car and go to Mitzi’s church. Not mine. Mitzi’s.
I felt guilty. We didn’t attend services together, and now that she was gone, I was going to her place of worship. I opened the trunk of my car and pulled out an umbrella–the one Mitzi gave me a few years ago. It features kittens dancing in the rain. I love it.
Rain splashed against the windshield. I pulled into the parking lot of the church and sat for several minutes praying the downpour would lighten up so I could dash inside.
The church wasn’t very big. It reminded me of the country churches you see in paintings. This one sits on the outskirts of town and is very soothing to the senses. Even in the rain, it looked inviting.
At this rate, I would spend the whole service in my car. I opened the door and got the umbrella up and over my head but not without getting wet. I yanked my bible from the passenger seat, thankful I’d invested in a nice cover, and tucked it against my chest. I hitched my purse over my shoulder, and then I ran for the entrance.
The wind caught my umbrella, the mud grabbed my shoes, and suddenly I was looking up at raindrops as they fell from the sky. I should have stayed home.
“Here let me help you up.” The door greeter must have seen me go down because now he stood over me holding out a hand. I could only pray my dress wasn’t up over my thighs. That just isn’t ladylike.
Heat filled my cheeks as he pulled me up. The umbrella lay at my feet, and I still clutched the Bible to my chest. I picked up my once beautiful umbrella.
“Come on in. We’ll have one of the ladies assist you.”
He was already pulling me inside. By the time I got my bearings, I was standing in the entryway, dripping on beautiful hardwood floors. A woman stood watching me with concern in her eyes. “I think I’d like to go home.” I turned to go back out the door.
“Nonsense, you’re already here. I’ll help you dry off, and you’ll be as good as new. I’m Lori Haywood.”
I looked into the kindest grey eyes I’d ever seen. Lori smiled and gently took my arm and led me into a small room off the sanctuary.
What could I do? I was already inside, and to go back out in sopping wet clothes wasn’t something I looked forward to. I sighed. “I’m Claire Parker.”
“Ms. Parker, this is the room right off the baptistery. I think we’ll be able to find you some fresh clothes in here.” She was already digging in a closet.
The thought of wearing borrowed clothes bothered me, but so did the thought of driving home and sitting in mud and water as I did so. “I really don’t mean to be so much bother.”
“You’re no trouble at all. See those?” She pointed at two dresses hanging on a clothes bar. They were nice dresses but they were also dripping on the floor.
I nodded.
“Those belong to Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Franks. The church bus splashed both of them as it arrived this morning. That’s why we have extra clothes here.” She handed me a sweater and a skirt.
They have people getting splashed by the church bus every Sunday? I shook the thought from my head as I prayed the clothes would fit.
“That, and we also have a clothes ministry. Come over here, and you can change in private. I’ll wait outside the door.” She smiled at me and left.
I quickly changed out of my soiled outfit and slipped into the blouse and skirt. With my own ruined clothes I wiped the water and mud
Similar Books
