Love Remains by Kaye Dacus

apparently noticing no empty chairs. Not even Flannery had thought to save her a place.
    Zarah went back to the desk to get the chair—no, wait, what was she doing sitting down over there again? Sure enough, she opened up her Bible as if she was going to sit there, apart from the rest of the group, for the entire lesson.
    Bobby clamped his teeth together. How could these people be so insensitive to someone who did so much for them?
    As soon as Patrick finished his introduction and asked a discussion question, Bobby scooted his chair back, creating a wide enough hole in the circle to accommodate another chair. He ignored the questioning looks from everyone else, pulled another chair off the stacks lined up against the wall, and put it in the gap. He then went over to the desk, picked Zarah’s Bible up off it—careful not to lose her place—cupped his hand under her elbow, and escorted her to the extra chair.
    Her face went from sickly pale to eight-hours-in-the-sun red in a flash, and her eyes glittered with extra moisture, making Bobby’s triumph empty. He hadn’t just embarrassed her, he’d mortified her. In front of her friends and acquaintances. But he refused to back down—or to let her act like an unwanted appendage rather than a vital organ in this body of believers. He opened his Bible and returned his attention to the lesson as if nothing had happened.
    Something odd caught his attention, and he turned and looked at Flannery. She smiled at him and gave a slight nod of her head.
    He refused to acknowledge the gesture. If Flannery were the good friend to Zarah she’d acted like earlier, she would have done what he had long ago—and every week before now—to show Zarah they wouldn’t tolerate her hiding in a corner.
    Not that he cared. He would have done that for anyone, not just the first—and only—woman he’d ever loved.

Chapter 5

    U ncertain she would be able to face anybody in the singles’ group ever again, Zarah sought out her grandmother as soon as the worship service ended. She waited until Kiki finished her conversation with Lindy Patterson, not wanting to give either of the grandmothers any reason to discuss or speculate about any past, present, or future relationship there might be between her and Bobby.
    Kiki wrapped up her conversation with Lindy as soon as she noticed Zarah waiting in the wings. “Zarah, darling, you look tired.” Kiki pressed her cool, dry palm to Zarah’s forehead.
    It was all Zarah could do to refrain from pushing Kiki’s hand away. “I thought maybe I could join you and Pops for lunch, since I haven’t been able to spend much time with you recently.”
    Kiki pushed Zarah’s hair back from her face before returning her hand to her side. “What about lunch with the singles’ group?”
    “I’d really rather spend time with you. If that’s okay. But I don’t want to be an imposition.” Zarah hugged her Bible and sermon-notes journal to her chest.
    “Why do you always think you are going to be imposing on us? You are our granddaughter, our flesh and blood. We want to spend time with you. We want to be able to show you how important you are to us.”
    Zarah refused to get emotional. She’d spent far too long not having the strength to adequately police her reactions over the last four months—had found herself crying over greeting-card commercials—and now she needed to start rebuilding those barriers.
    “You happen to be in luck—I got industrious and put a pot roast in the slow cooker this morning, so you’ll definitely get us all to yourself, with no waiters to interrupt us.” Kiki waved at someone over Zarah’s shoulder.
    “Is there anything I can stop and pick up on the way over?”
    “No. I have everything we need. And you know I always make too much food for just Pops and me.”
    “Thanks, Kiki. I’m going to run home and change clothes, and then I’ll be over.” Zarah left her grandmother to talk to all her friends and slipped out of the