After opening prayer, a short lady, who was about as round as she was tall, led a dozen toddlers to the stage. “Good evenin’. The Mission Friends would like to share a song with y’all before class.”
A head full of unruly brown curls caught Wes’s attention, sending a smile to his face. Collin spotted him at the same time and began waving.
“Hey, poo!” Collin shouted, interrupting the teacher’s little spiel about the class.
Laughter skipped through the congregation, sending the tips of Wes’s ears up in flames. At least he shortened it to only one poo . . . Collin continued to wave and seemed to have no intention of stopping until Wes acknowledged him, so Wes offered a small wave.
“Now that the greetings are out of the way, we are going to sing ‘This Little Light of Mine.’ The children have . . .” The teacher yammered on, but Wes tuned her out when he looked over and found a red-faced brunette staring him down.
“Sorry,” Sophia mouthed.
Wes shrugged it off and moved his attention back to the group of toddlers just as one in particular scooted down the steps on his bottom. Once Collin reached the last step, he beat a path straight to Wes.
“Collin,” the teacher called out to the little boy.
“He my fwiend!” Collin hollered back. He pushed past Doc and climbed into Wes’s lap. “My fwiend!”
“Hey, buddy,” Wes whispered. “I was hoping to hear you sing.”
“You sing wiff me.” It was not a request but a command. He scooted back down and began tugging Wes’s hand.
Really, the kid gave him no choice, so Wes rose to his feet and allowed Collin to pull him down to the front. He sat on the edge of the stage, well aware that every set of eyes in the sanctuary was fastened on him.
“Good thing I know this song,” Wes commented with a self-deprecating smile. A murmur of chuckles followed it. The first two pews seemed to be reserved for the group of old ladies. Their ringleader, Bertie Matthews, caught Wes’s attention as she handed out peppermint disks to those around her. Smirking, as she always appeared to be doing, she winked at him over the top of her glasses as if they were in on a secret together.
As the pianist began playing, Wes pretended not to see the wink and chanced a quick glance at Sophia. Still blushing with her eyes rounded, she mouthed again, “Sorry.”
Collin stood proudly beside Wes, garbling the verses of the song as only a toddler could do while Wes quietly sang along. He was a good sport about it and even participated in the hand motions, which was basically waggling his index finger back and forth. He assumed it represented a candle.
After the song concluded and the teacher led the children out to go to their class, a boldness with maybe a dash of spite had Wes moving over to the right side of the sanctuary. As he passed by Bertie, the little lady held out a peppermint for him. He thanked her before popping it into his mouth and continued making his way to a certain pew.
“Hello, ladies,” Wes greeted quietly as he wedged himself between Agnes and Sophia.
“I’m surprised to see you tonight. Figured you’d still be working,” Agnes whispered as the pastor went over a few announcements.
Wes stretched an arm along the back of the pew behind her. “That paperwork will be complete and waiting on your desk in the morning, ma’am.” He leaned a little closer just to annoy her. “You’re welcome.”
Agnes clucked her tongue and scooted away from him. For a seventy-three-year-old, she sure was spunky.
“I’d like to share with you about a special gift from God,” the pastor said. “One that we as Christians should take advantage of and guard with our hearts. It’s the gift of hope.” He flipped through his Bible. “Romans 12:12 says, ‘Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.’ After reading this, I had to read it again.” The elderly man paced the stage, looking around at the congregation. “In the same verse of hope, affliction is mentioned. It’s a reminder that, yes, affliction will come, but no, we are not defeated. We have a hope in our Savior. Don’t let anything steal the joy in that.”
The pews were aligned at an angle, which put Sophia in Wes’s periphery for the entire service. While he listened to the pastor offer words of encouragement about overcoming affliction and finding joy in hope, he watched Sophia quietly weep. As tears slid down her hollowed cheeks, he wanted to reach over, protectively tuck her into his side and give her some form of comfort, but it was not his place to offer any of that. Instead, he clasped his hands together in his lap to prevent himself from reaching out to her.
“Let us pray,” the pastor said, sending all heads to bow and eyes to close.
Wes sensed her movement to his left, and when the pastor said amen, he opened his eyes and found the spot beside him empty. It’s probably for the best. You have no business trying to comfort anyone.
“I hope this means you’re reconsidering your hasty decision on Monday,” Agnes said, drawing Wes’s attention away from the empty spot.
“I’m glad you have hope, Agnes. It’s a good thing.” He hitched a thumb in his mentor’s direction. “And I hope you allow Doc back into his bed tonight.”
7
Festivals along the Grand Strand always attracted a considerable crowd. Tourists as well as locals were drawn to the quaintness provided by regional foods, entertainment, contests, games and prizes, and craft vendors. The Fish and Grits Festival in Sunset Cove was no exception. On this balmy summer evening, the beach and boardwalk were lined with vendors and surrounded by onlookers.
Opal hooked her arm around Sophia’s and maneuvered them over to a popcorn stand. “I just love those big ole copper kettles they cook it up in. You reckon I can talk Linc into buying me one?”
Sophia snickered. “Honey, if you asked that big lug to buy you the moon, he’d be on the phone with NASA to figure out how to make it happen.”
Opal giggled. “Ooh, look at all the choices.”
The vendor offered the spirited redhead a sample of each flavor—salty sweet, white cheddar, cocoa, jalapeño, and caramel. He offered Sophia samples as well, but she politely declined.
The appealing scent of burnt sugar and popcorn perfumed the air but gave her no desire to eat. Her stomach had remained in knots since the incident at the grocery store. Ty’s phone call and Wes’s refusal to hire her had only made it worse.
“Okay, I need a bag of the white cheddar and the caramel . . . No, wait. Is there any way you could mix all the flavors into one bag?”
Sophia turned her attention back to Opal and wrinkled her nose. “All mixed together?”
“Sure. Sounds yummy, doesn’t it?” Opal smiled at the vendor, looking hopeful.
“Sorry, but she’s pregnant,” Sophia interjected, although Opal’s weird taste buds came naturally and had nothing to do with hormone changes.
It softened the man to the idea, and within minutes he was handing over a mix of the popcorn. Opal dug in the pocket of her long floppy skirt, produced a five-dollar bill, and paid before they moved on to a row of jewelry artisans.
Sophia scanned the crowd and got at least her fifth glimpse of Wes that day. Earlier, he’d been trapped at the Chamber of Commerce tent, giving out balloons. Later in the day, he’d been handing out wellness pamphlets and pens at the pediatric health booth. After that, she’d seen him helping children with coloring pages at the church tent. Collin was with her then, and it was all she could do to pull the little guy away from Wes. And each time she spotted Wes, the man was surrounded by different groups of women.