Youth Group Service

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. The church had a tradition that every year one Sunday service is turned over to the teenagers in the youth group to lead. This year, Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell assigned new Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum to supervise this event. At the tender age of twenty-eight, O’Donnell saw Michelle as practically one of the youth herself.

Michelle took to the task with gusto. Unfortunately the teen youth group was a little on the small side. It consisted primarily of Pastor O’Donnell’s fifteen year-old daughter Katie, Katie’s friend Tabitha, Katie’s boyfriend Joe and one twelve year-old named Becky. Becky was really too young to be mixed in with the high schoolers, but she was the only junior high age kid at the church. Besides, Becky was actually the most mature of the group.

Michelle gathered the four members of the youth group a few weeks before their service to make plans. “Our first job should be to divide up the parts of the service,” she said. “Let’s start with the sermon. Who would like to deliver the sermon?”

Becky’s hand shot into the air. Michelle patiently waited for any more volunteers but all the other hands remained firmly in their owners’ laps.

“You really want to give the sermon,” Michelle asked Becky.

“No,” Becky said. “Well yes. What I mean is, why don’t we do a play for the sermon?”

“That’s a good idea,” Michelle said.

“And I’ll write it and direct it,” Becky added.

Michelle could imagine the older kids reactions to Becky bossing them around. “Or…” Michelle said, “maybe you could write it and I’ll direct it. That way you can take a part. What do you think?”

Becky considered the offer. After a few minutes she broke into a big smile and said, “Okay,” much to Michelle’s relief.

They divided up the rest of the tasks – reading scripture, doing the prayer, making announcements and collecting offering – then agreed to meet back in a week to do a read through of Becky’s play.

The play was to be based on the story of the Good Samaritan. Becky crafted an epic filled with dramatic monologues that ran thirty minutes on first reading. Michelle insisted that it must be cut down to ten minutes, and after much weeping and gnashing of teeth from Becky, they achieved that goal.

Katie was to play the story’s robbery victim, Becky did double duty as the priest and the innkeeper, Tabitha played the temple assistant and Joe was assigned the part of the Samaritan. Though the kids were hardly natural actors, Michelle thought the little play quite charming. Becky disagreed. She proposed rehearsing every night of the week to whip the production up to her standards.

In the interest of keeping Becky from being strangled by the other teens, Michelle declined the proposal and instead scheduled a single additional rehearsal the week prior to the service, but urged everyone to memorize their lines before then.

By the end of that next rehearsal even Becky had to agree the play was turning out pretty cool. Michelle beamed with pride as she watched the teens perform. Pastor O’Donnell was going to be very impressed by this year’s youth service, she thought.

When Michelle walked into the sanctuary the morning of the service, however, her optimism began to falter. They had all agreed to meet an hour early for one final run through. When Michelle entered, she saw Katie and Tabitha huddled at the left end of the front pew. Becky sat cross-legged at the other end with a sulky look on her face. Joe was in the far back pew texting on his cell phone. A vague tension filled the room.

“Good morning everyone!” Michelle said as she strode up the center aisle.

The teens all just looked at her. Becky let out a little whimper.

Michelle made her way up to the chancel. She noticed that Katie’s eyes were rimmed red and Tabitha was holding her hand. Something was wrong.

“Tabitha,” Michelle said, trying to keep her voice even. “Come up here a minute.” Michelle thought Tabitha looked the least upset of the three girls.

“What’s going on?” Michelle hissed once Tabitha joined her.

“Well…” Tabitha whispered conspiratorially, “At school on Thursday Julie told Meghan who told Katie that Joe gave Amber a ride home and Katie hates Amber because Amber once made up a mean poem about Katie’s shoes and read it in front of the whole entire English class and besides Katie once went out with a boy Amber likes so Amber always tried to mess with Katie and Joe. So Katie got mad at Joe because he should know better than to give rides to Amber and they broke up. Katie and Joe, I mean.”

“I see,” Michelle said. She looked over at Katie. The poor girl looked crushed. Joe, on the other hand, didn’t look like anything was bothering him at all. Michelle suspected it was an act meant to avoid appearing vulnerable. Teenage boys shunned vulnerability like it was a flesh-eating virus. There was only one thing to do.

Get the rehearsal started.

It’s not that Michelle was unsympathetic to the raging teenage emotions that were at play, but they had a service to perform in exactly fifty-two minutes. The emotions would have to wait.

Michelle called all the kids to join her up front. Joe swaggered up from the back pew striving a little too hard to look bored. When he was seated with the others, Michelle cleared her throat. “Listen up, everyone. I know some of you are not having a very good day. But there’s a saying in show biz that the show must go on. So for the next two hours, let’s forget about everything except doing a great church service, okay?”

The teens all nodded with a marked lack of enthusiasm. But they did nod. Michelle began the rehearsal.

By the start of service, Michelle thought they just might pull this thing off. Katie and Joe were clearly angry at each other but if anything that anger had spurred them to more dynamic performances during the rehearsal.

The first two thirds of the service went gangbusters. Sure, Tabitha read the scripture so fast the congregation could barely understand it, and sure Joe mumbled the prayer so quietly that even with the microphone the congregation could barely hear it, and sure Becky tripped while helping with the offering and had to crawl under several pews to retrieve the scattered donations, but most of the congregation seemed to find the mishaps charming.

Then it came time for the Good Samaritan play.

It all went along pretty smoothly until Joe (as the Samaritan) dropped Katie (as the victim) off at the inn. Joe decided to improvise his lines a little. He instructed Becky’s innkeeper to give Katie a room away from the other guests because Katie tended to blab on incessantly.

Next came the first time in history that the telling of the Good Samaritan story featured the victim thanking the Samaritan by punching him below the belt.

During coffee hour after the service Michelle stood at the back of the social hall feeling completely miserable. Her mood wasn’t improved when she saw Pastor O’Donnell approaching.

“I’m so sorry,” she said before he could launch into any recriminations.

“For what?” O’Donnell asked.

“The service was a disaster,” Michelle said.

“Nonsense,” O’Donnell laughed. “That’s the best youth service we’ve had since I’ve been here. You should have seen the one two years ago. One of the kids threw up in the middle of it. And then again at the end. You did great.”

“Really?” Michelle asked.

“Really,” O’Donnell reassured her. “And I personally liked the part where Katie slugged Joe. I’m actually glad they split up. I never really cared for that little hooligan. But Katie did. She’s sitting on the steps out back and I know from experience that the last person she wants to talk to is her dad. But she might like to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Michelle said.

Michelle went outside and sat down next to Katie. They didn’t talk though. Michelle just put her arm around Katie’s shoulders and let Katie cry.

Save the Prayer Gazebo

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Nestled amongst the willows in one corner of the large lawn behind the church sits a decrepit little gazebo, covered in peeling paint and full of spiders and history. A carved wooden plank hanging from rusted iron hooks at the back of the gazebo declares it to be a gift from Darwin Miggins on May 7, 1953 for the purpose of reflection and prayer.

On a recent Monday Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell and head usher Ralph Billings stood in front of this little gazebo studying a broken floorboard. Said board was broken by four year-old Mary Boyer during a game of hide and seek the previous day. Though Mary was to blame for much of the damage around the church over the previous couple of years, O’Donnell did not hold her responsible in this instance. The wood was clearly rotting. Nobody had used the gazebo for reflection or prayer in many years.

“We ought to just tear this junky thing down,” O’Donnell finally said to Ralph, oblivious to the chaos his statement would cause.

He began to get an inkling of the fallout a few days later when seventy year-old Henrietta Miggins stormed into his office. “What’s this I hear about tearing down the prayer gazebo?” Henrietta demanded. “My grandfather built that gazebo as a gift for this church. It says so right on the plaque inside if you’d bother to look.”

“Henrietta,” O’Donnell sighed, “that gazebo is falling apart. It’s dangerous.”

“Well then fix it.” Henrietta thundered. “I will not have you desecrating my grandfather’s memory!”

“That would cost several hundred dollars,” O’Donnell sputtered. “We don’t have the money for that.”

Which is how the “Save the Prayer Gazebo Fundraiser Barbecue” was born.

The plan came about during the next trustees meeting where Henrietta argued for the vital necessity of the gazebo to the spiritual life of their wayward congregation. Eventually Ralph Billings suggested a fundraiser primarily as a means to get Henrietta to shut up.

The idea to make the event a barbecue came from Del Winslow who like many red blooded American men loved to cook meat over fire. Ralph protested that grilled meat was full of carcinogens. A compromise was reached when it was decided that Del could man a grill for cheeseburgers while Ralph would be free to offer a healthy alternative.

Of course nobody believed Ralph would come up with a healthy alternative that would be more popular than a good old-fashioned char broiled cheeseburger. Not even Ralph, though he would never have admitted it.

Then Ralph happened to have a conversation with choir director Shane Reed. Shane was a foodie. Though he loved a good cheeseburger as much as anyone, he told Ralph about a recipe he had for grilled sweet potato tacos with yellow pepper salsa that were both healthy and incredibly tasty. Ralph’s eyes lit up. He thought that those tacos sounded like they just might appeal to more people than Del’s cheeseburgers.

The barbecue had become a competition.

The event was scheduled for a Sunday after church. When the day arrived, Del set up his charcoal grill to one side of the gazebo while Shane and Ralph placed a propane grill on the other side. A table for salads, chips and drinks was arranged between them. Ralph and Del eyed each other warily across that table while Shane went about slicing up vegetables completely oblivious to the tension.

The day was sunny and mild and the turnout for the barbecue was quite good. Though that might have had more to do with Henrietta than the weather. After church, Henrietta stationed herself at a little table between the parking lot and the back lawn. Anyone who appeared to be heading toward their car instead of the fundraiser was hailed by Henrietta with, “you are coming to the barbecue, aren’t you?” Few who did not have an iron clad excuse at the ready overcame Henrietta’s stern glare. They quickly found themselves plopping some money in the coffee tin labeled “donations.”

Both the cheeseburgers and the sweet potato tacos were a big hit. Though Del and Ralph tried to keep count of how many of each were served, they found it difficult given the volume being consumed. Both men loudly extolled the virtues of their particular cuisine to all who came near. The effect was not unlike competing carnival barkers at a sideshow. The result was that most people took both a burger and a taco.

It became clear the difference might be made by a subtle arrangement of items on the side dish table. The pitchers of lemonade and ice tea were placed on the end near Ralph’s grill. Which meant when people went back to refill their cups, it was easy for Ralph to goad them into taking a second helping of sweet potato taco.

Del recognized this and decided to move a couple of the pitchers to his end, “for people’s convenience” he informed Ralph when Ralph demanded to know what Del was up to. The argument might have come to blows if Pastor O’Donnell hadn’t been returning for seconds at that moment. He reminded the two men that this was all for a good cause. Then he placed a taco and a burger on his plate. He didn’t want to play favorites, after all.

Things remained relatively calm for about twenty more minutes. That’s when Tammy Billings brought out a tray of refills for the empty pitchers. She put two pitchers of ice tea on Del’s side of the table and a pitcher each of lemonade and ice tea on Ralph’s side.

“Hey, where’s my lemonade?” Del asked.

“We ran out,” Tammy informed him. “There was only enough for one pitcher.” Then she beat a hasty retreat. She did not want to get involved in the competition.

Del stomped over and grabbed the single pitcher of lemonade.

“Just what do you think you’re doing now,” Ralph demanded.

“Why do you get the lemonade on your side?” Del asked.

“I have as much right to it as you do,” Ralph replied, pursuing him.

“The kids are all drinking lemonade and kids prefer cheeseburgers,” Del shouted.

“Kids should be eating healthier food,” Ralph responded, grabbing the pitcher.

The intellectual debate devolved into a tug of war over the plastic container. Half the precious lemonade sloshed over the edges. That made the pitcher slippery, and Ralph lost his grip on it rather suddenly.

Del stumbled back, trying not to spill the remaining contents of the pitcher. He didn’t realize his grill was directly behind him. He banged into it, tipping it over. Hot coals scattered across the lawn.

One particularly nefarious coal rolled under the gazebo and ignited a patch of dried grass there. The old, dry wood of the gazebo was also incredibly flammable and before anyone could react, tongues of flame were licking up one side.

“The gazebo’s on fire!” Ralph shouted.

Pandemonium ensued.

Del ran for a hose coiled up at the side of the church. Unfortunately, it was only long enough to reach about halfway across the lawn. He used his thumb to get as much distance on the spray as possible, but was not able to reach the gazebo.

Seeing this, Ralph had another idea. He dashed over to the controls for the underground sprinkler system. A few quick adjustments and jets of water were shooting out all across the lawn. Sadly, the spray of the nearest sprinkler heads only splattered the bottom of the gazebo and by this time the flames had reached the roof.

The sprinklers also served to clear all the attendees off the lawn. All except Henrietta Miggins who stood forlornly, her floral dress hanging damply from her thin frame and tears running down her cheeks as she watched her grandfather’s gazebo burn.

Pastor O’Donnell saw her agony and was moved. He dashed for the gazebo as fast as a man who had just consumed three burgers and three sweet potato tacos could dash. He scooted around the back and yanked the carved wooden plaque from the rusted hooks before the flames could reach it, slightly burning the back of his hand.

Soon several clear-headed people had retrieved fire extinguishers from inside the church and doused most of the flames. The fire department arrived seconds later to finish the job.

An hour after that O’Donnell, Henrietta, Ralph and Del stood together in front of the blackened gazebo.

“I’m so sorry, Henrietta,” Del said.

“Here,” O’Donnell added, handing the plaque to Henrietta. “We’ll build a new gazebo and put your grandfather’s plaque in it to honor his memory.”

“Thank you, pastor,” Henrietta replied.

“We can use the money we raised today,” Ralph said brightly. “How much did we get?”

“One hundred eighty dollars after expenses,” Henrietta informed them.

“Hm,” Ralph thought. “That won’t be quite enough.”

“We can always have another barbecue,” Del said.

“No more barbecues,” O’Donnell replied through clenched teeth.

Which is how the “Replace the Prayer Gazebo Family Picnic Fundraiser” was born.

A Little Friendly Advice

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Michelle Tellum, the pretty new 28-year-old associate pastor, had just started dating a young man by the name of Ian Wells. Ian and Michelle had their first kiss in Ian’s car in the church parking lot just before service one Sunday morning. It was a wonderful kiss, marred only by the fact that it had been witnessed by seventy year-old Henrietta Miggins.

Michelle had little doubt Henrietta would not approve of the associate pastor making out in the church parking lot, but she held out hope that maybe Henrietta’s disapproval would go unspoken. That only showed how new Michelle was to the little church. Henrietta never let her disapproval of anything go unspoken.

The congregation of the church may have been a tad behind in their tithing; they may have been a bit slow to volunteer for mission projects; they may even have been fairly casual in regards to their attendance. But when it came to gossip they constituted an efficient and effective machine. By the end of the service the details of Michelle’s first kiss were familiar to everyone in the building and even a few who had skipped church that morning.

The one exception was Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell. He had missed the gossip partly because he was a tad busy leading the service, and partly because he was always a bit clueless. After the benediction, Henry and Michelle took up posts on either side of the sanctuary doors to greet the congregants as they exited.

Ian was the first out. Henry grabbed his hand in a hearty shake and said, “Hello there. Are you a first time visitor?”

“Second,” Ian said. “I’m a friend of Michelle’s.”

“Ah, well good to have you,” Henry said.

Ian turned to Michelle. “I’ll wait for you at coffee hour.”

Ian went out to the social hall and got a cup of coffee. He stood in the corner trying to look inconspicuous. Within seconds head usher Ralph Billings sidled up to him. “So,” Ralph said casually, “you’re Pastor Michelle’s new boyfriend, eh?”

“Ian Wells,” Ian said, extending his hand. “And I don’t know if I’d use the term boyfriend. We’ve only been out a couple times.”

“I see, I see,” Ralph said, nodding. “Let me give you a little friendly advice. We all love our pastor Michelle dearly. She’s a sweet young woman. And Normal’s a pretty small town if you get my drift.”

“Um, I’m not sure,” Ian said. “Is your drift some kind of threat?”

“Of course not,” Ralph laughed. “I’m just saying that Michelle is young and sweet and nobody here would like to see her get hurt. So just keep that in mind.”

Ian got Ralph’s drift.

Meanwhile, back at the sanctuary doors, Missy Moore, a heavy-set, 44 year-old woman hustled up to Michelle, ignored her outstretched hand, and gave her a hug. Missy was a hugger.

“That boyfriend of yours is a hunk!” Missy exclaimed.

“Well he’s not exactly my boyfriend yet…” Michelle started to explain in a low voice, eyeing the line behind Missy nervously.

“Nonsense! I can tell you two belong together like peanut butter and bacon!” Missy practically yelled.

Michelle was not sure whether that was a good thing, never having combined peanut butter and bacon.

“But,” Missy continued conspiratorially, “let me give you a little friendly advice. You need to put out some honey if you want to catch a fly.”

“Okay,” Michelle said.

“I’m talking about make-up!” Missy clarified. “I can give you some tips that will bring out your best features.”

Michelle glanced up at Missy’s heavy blue eye shadow and excessively tweezed brows. “Thanks,” Michelle said with fairly convincing sincerity. “We’ll have to get together sometime during the week.”

Missy clapped her hands excitedly and moved on.

Back in the social hall, Ian found himself in conversation with Shane Reed, the choir director. Shane was 32, divorced, and had a secret crush on Michelle. He regarded Ian with a big smile and cold eyes.

“So, you and Michelle,” Shane said.

“Yep,” Ian replied.

“Getting serious?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“I see,” Shane said. “Look, let me give you a little friendly advice. Michelle’s great and all, but dating a pastor is a pain. It’s always church, church, church, day and night. Boring!”

“Aren’t you the choir director?” Ian asked.

“Yeah. Anyway,” Shane continued, “you should know there are some real hotties over at the college and they can be pretty wild if you know what I mean. I’d think a guy like you would prefer a woman who’s a little more exciting.”

“So far Michelle’s been pretty exciting,” Ian replied.

“She has, huh.”

“Yep.”

“Well…just think about what I said. You know, about the college girls.” Shane gave Ian a nudge and a wink then went to get a donut.

To Michelle’s relief, the sanctuary had finally cleared out. But before she could go find Ian, Henry put a hand on her arm.

“So,” Henry said, “You’re dating that young man, are you?”

“Uh-huh,” Michelle sighed. Henry was her boss and she really didn’t want to have a conversation about her love life with him.

“Let me give you a little friendly advice,” the senior pastor said. “When you go out on dates, go to another town. Less chance of running into a parishioner that way. But just be aware, no matter where you go, you will run into a parishioner. They’re everywhere. It’s like they stalk you or something. Like sharks. Or polar bears. So, I guess my advice is, no matter where you go, just be careful how you behave.”

“Great, will do,” Michelle said.

“Oh,” Henry added, “and make sure you keep your social life separate from your pastoral duties. Don’t let church business interfere in the relationship.”

Back in the social hall Ian had been cornered by a nicely dressed woman of about fifty with a short, professional haircut. “I’m Jennifer O’Donnell,” the woman said. “Pastor O’Donnell’s wife. I understand you’re seeing Michelle.”

“Yep,” Ian sighed.

Jennifer laughed and gave him a knowing look as though they were both in on a private joke. Ian, however, could not figure out what that joke was. It made him uncomfortable.

“Let me give you a little friendly advice,” Jennifer said. “First of all, don’t let them sign you up for a bunch of stuff. When you’re dating a pastor everyone assumes you’ll volunteer for everything that needs doing around the church. You have the right to say no. Second, repeat names as often as you can so you remember them because everyone at the church is going to know yours. Third, no matter what Michelle says, realize church business will inevitably interfere with the relationship.”

Meanwhile, Michelle had finally made her way to the social hall and spotted Ian and Jennifer. She felt a knot in her stomach as she considered what that particular discussion might be about. She made a beeline for them – only to be intercepted by Katie O’Donnell, Henry and Jennifer’s fifteen year-old daughter.

“Your new boyfriend’s cute,” Katie gushed.

“Thanks,” Michelle replied, “but we’ve only been on a couple dates so I wouldn’t call him my boyfriend yet.”

“Oh,” Katie said. “Okay. Hey, can I ask you a question? Do you believe premarital sex is a sin?”

Michelle looked quickly around to see who might be listening. “Katie, I am not going to talk about my sex life with you!” she hissed.

Michelle started to move past the teen, but Katie said, “It’s just my boyfriend, Joe, he’s a junior and he wants us to get a hotel room for the junior prom.”

Michelle froze. She turned back to Katie. There were tiny tears rising in the girl’s eyes as she bit her lip nervously. Michelle glanced over at Ian. He met her gaze with a pleading look. Michelle shrugged an apology and took Katie’s arm.

“Okay,” she said to Katie. “Let’s go talk.”

Ian would just have to listen to Jennifer’s advice a while longer.

First Kiss

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Michelle Tellum, the pretty, 28-year-old associate pastor, had just started dating a young man by the name of Ian Wells. Ian played guitar in a jazz band, and for their second date he invited Michelle to come hear him perform at a local tavern on Saturday night.

Michelle was really excited to hear Ian play. She knew that staying out late on a Saturday would have an impact on her functionality Sunday morning, but this particular weekend she was only doing supporting duties during the church service so she figured she could handle it.

Michelle was excited for another reason. Her first date with Ian had been over lunch and ended with a hug. She expected this date would end with a kiss. Michelle put a lot of stock in the first kiss. She believed it set the tone for the whole relationship. Michelle thought Ian was clever, dashingly handsome, and gave off just a hint of danger. Those ingredients led her to believe he would be an excellent kisser.

Ian, being a gentleman, picked Michelle up at her apartment. Which was slightly inconvenient because the band had to arrive at the bar several hours before their set to do a sound check. Michelle didn’t mind, though. She thought the whole process was fascinating. And it gave her and Ian time to chat as the bar slowly filled up with customers.

It also gave Michelle time to meet the rest of the band. She was painfully aware that they were sizing her up, but at least they were all polite about it. All, that is, except Ian’s roommate Rico, the band’s drummer, who nudged Ian and said “nice!” upon being introduced. Still, it could have been worse.

A little after 9:30 p.m. the band took the stage. They played a hot, Dixieland style of jazz. Michelle enjoyed the music a lot, though as the evening progressed she had to work hard not to yawn. She was not used to such late nights. Every few minutes Ian would steal a look in her direction and give her a little smile or wink. That would perk Michelle right up and turn her thoughts again to the impending first kiss.

When the band finally finished, Michelle waited patiently as they put away their instruments, hoping her fatigue wasn’t visible on her face. Ian eventually joined her and asked what she thought of the music. She waxed suitably rhapsodic and he was suitably modest in response.

Then they fell quiet. Ian took her hand. This was it, Michelle realized. The first kiss. She would have preferred it didn’t happen in a bar, but sometimes a girl’s got to be flexible. Ian leaned in…

And then Rico threw his arms around both of them. “Dude!” he yelled. “We were awesome tonight. Didn’t you think so, Ian’s girl?”

“Michelle,” Ian reminded him with obvious annoyance. It was clear Rico was drunk. Ian would later explain that was an occupational hazard when the bar provides the band with free drinks in lieu of pay.

“The show was fantastic,” Michelle said.

“I knew I liked you,” Rico slurred. “Ian has good taste.”

“Excuse me a moment,” Ian said and guided Rico away.

Michelle composed herself. She wasn’t going to let the interruption spoil the upcoming kiss.

Ian returned. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “Rico’s too drunk to drive and the other guys have already left. Can we swing by our place so I can drop him off and then I’ll take you home?”

“Sure,” Michelle said. She was a little annoyed, but at least this way the first kiss would be on her doorstep. The traditional aspect of the idea appealed to her.

However, on the way to Ian and Rico’s apartment Rico fell asleep. The upside was that they didn’t have to endure his babbling during the drive. The downside was they couldn’t fully rouse him when they got to the apartment and had to carry him in, one of Rico’s arms draped over each of their shoulders.

“Wait here and I’ll get him into bed,” Ian said when they reached the living room.

Michelle had a seat on the couch. The apartment was surprisingly clean and tastefully decorated considering two guys in their mid-20’s lived there. Michelle particularly admired the framed posters of classic jazz performances that lined the walls. She decided this wouldn’t be too bad a location for a first kiss either.

Ian returned after a few minutes. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Some water, thanks.”

Ian got two glasses of water and sat down beside her. “Rico’s really not a bad guy most of the time.”

“Forget about it,” Michelle replied.

“Thanks for being cool,” Ian said and slipped his arm around her shoulders. She settled against him and let her eyes close, just enjoying his proximity and the sense that she might, indeed, be cool.

The next thing she knew, Ian was shaking her awake. “Mm,” she said groggily, “I must have fallen asleep.”

“So did I,” he told her. “It’s 10 a.m.”

Michelle sat bolt upright. She realized sunlight was streaming in through the windows. “I have to go home! I have to be at church at 10:30.”

“You’ll never make it. I’ll drive you straight there.”

She looked down at her spaghetti strap silk blouse. “I can’t wear this to church!” she exclaimed. “I’m a pastor!”

“Let me see what I can do,” he said and went into his room. Michelle found the bathroom and quickly cleaned herself up. She scrubbed the smeared make-up from her face and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. When she came out, Ian was waiting with a plain blue sweater.

“It’ll be big on you,” he said.

“It’ll work,” she replied and slid it on.

They raced to the church and arrived just after 10:20. Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. “Made it.”

“I’m really sorry,” Ian said. Michelle glanced over. He looked about as miserable as he possibly could.

“It’s as much my fault as yours,” she reassured him.

“Really?”

“Really.” She patted his hand. He closed his fingers around hers.

“Well, you still have eight minutes to kill,” he noted. Michelle smiled. Ian leaned over and kissed her.

It was better than she hoped. She didn’t even notice the seatbelt cutting into her shoulder as she pressed toward him.

“So can I see you again?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” she mumbled, feeling a little lightheaded.

“You better get inside.”

“Uh huh.” Her wits seemed to have abandoned her. He was a really good kisser.

She managed to get out of the car.

And that’s when she noticed seventy year-old Henrietta Miggins standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed, staring directly at her with a disapproving frown. As soon as their eyes met Henrietta turned and stalked inside the church.

“That isn’t good, is it?” Ian asked.

“Uh-uh,” she replied.

Michelle’s euphoria was quickly dissipating.

To be continued…

Sunscreen

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. The church has a softball team called the “Miracles” that plays in the Normal Interdenominational Summer Softball League. Del Winslow plays first base, the same position he played on his college intramural team. Of course Del’s college days are quite a few years and quite a few pounds behind him.

The softball season was approaching and choir director Shane Reed, who coached the team, discovered he had a hole to fill. The outfield was made up of Pastor O’Donnell, his daughter Katie and her friend Tabitha. Kevin Boyer pitched and Missy Moore was the catcher. Shane handled second, Thad Wheeling was at shortstop and the previous year Katie’s boyfriend Joe had played third. But Joe had bowed out this year because he had taken up another sport: stock car driving. Actually, it was a video game about stock car driving, but it occupied much of his weekends.

Shane was telling Del about his dilemma at coffee hour after church when Del’s daughter Carrie and her new husband, Carlos Lopez, joined them. Carlos and Carrie had moved in with Del and his wife, Karen, after the company the younger couple worked for went out of business. Del was not particularly pleased with the arrangement, but it didn’t look like it was going to change anytime soon. Carlos had decided to go back to school to get his MBA and Carrie had just discovered she was pregnant.

“I’ll play,” Carlos said, upon learning of the open slot. “I was on the company softball team back in Cincinnati.”

“Carlos!” Carrie exclaimed, “You don’t have time for softball. You have so much studying to do, not to mention getting ready for the baby.”

“She has a point,” Del said. He already saw more of Carlos than he wanted at home. He was looking forward to softball as a nice break from his domestic situation.

“But Sweetie,” Carlos protested to his bride, “it will be a good way to get some exercise. You don’t want me to get fat, do you?”

“It’s only one practice and one game a week,” Shane interjected hopefully. “And the season will be well over before you have your baby.

“Well… I guess,” Carrie said. “But you would have to promise to quit if it interferes with school.”

“Yes!” Carlos yelled and high-fived Shane. The two were grinning ear to ear. Carrie grimaced. Del forced a smile, but he kind of wished his daughter had stuck to her guns.

Shane had no such doubts as he put the team through their paces at the first practice. Carlos turned out to be not just a competent fielder, but also an excellent power hitter. Kevin was no slouch as a pitcher yet Carlos routinely pounded his throws over the low chain link fence that served as an outfield wall at the Normal Public Athletic Fields. The whole team was quietly beginning to think that, unlike last year, they might actually get more than one win this season.

The day of the first game arrived. Del waited impatiently for Carlos in the foyer. “Carlos,” he yelled, “come on. Time to go.”

“I’m ready,” Carlos said as he jogged downstairs.

Karen poked her head in from the living room. “Don’t forget sunscreen,” she said.

“It’s in my bag,” Del replied.

“Wait up,” Carrie called from the top of the stairs. She had a big purse slung over her shoulder and was wearing a floppy hat to keep the sun off her face.

“Where are you going, Sweetie?” Carlos asked.

“To the game,” Carrie replied. “You don’t expect me to sit home while you’re out having fun, do you?”

“But… you know you can’t play,” Carlos said carefully. “I mean you didn’t go to practice.”

“I’m not going to play, Dummy,” she told him. “I’m going to watch. That’s allowed, right?

Neither Carlos nor Del could think of a reason it wouldn’t be. The three of them piled into the car and headed for the field. “Did you put on sunscreen,” Carrie asked her husband.

“No,” Carlos replied.

“There’s some in my bag,” Del said with a chuckle. He was thinking his daughter was a lot like her mother. Carrie retrieved the lotion for Carlos.

“You want some?” Carlos asked Del.

“I’ll put it on when we get there,” he said.

The game – against a Baptist team called the Commandments – was a nail biter. Carrie had brought a book to read – she wasn’t really a fan of sports, she’d mostly gone along to make a point – but by the fourth inning the book sat forgotten beside her on the bleachers as she became more and more caught up in the action.

Going into the bottom of the final inning the Commandments were ahead 7-6 but the Miracles had one last chance at bat. Thad Wheeling was up first. After watching a ball, he took a good cut at the second pitch and popped one up to left field. Unfortunately the left fielder was on her toes and caught the ball for the Miracle’s first out.

Next came Kevin Boyer. Kevin managed to hit a nice tweener over the second baseman for a double, putting the tying run on second and bringing Carlos to the plate with Del on deck.

Del swung a pair of bats idly, loosening up his shoulders, as he watched Carlos step up to the plate. Carrie yelled encouragement from the stands. She couldn’t see what Del could – Carlos was blinking rapidly. Del realized Carlos was sweating sunscreen into his eyes.

Carlos managed to make contact with the first two pitches but sent them both foul, giving him two strikes. Del started warming up more seriously. It looked like it would be up to him to win this thing.

Then on the next pitch Carlos took a perfect swing and hit the ball a good ten yards out of the park.

The team went wild, everyone mobbing Carlos at home plate as he came around to score the winning run. Everyone, that is, except Del, who was busy putting the warm-up bats away. The game was over and he had just missed an opportunity to be a hero.

Carlos and the crowd of players congratulating him headed for the dugout where Del and Carrie were waiting. “We won!” Shane exclaimed. “We’re actually undefeated. Admittedly, we’ve only played one game, but still!”

“We should celebrate,” Carlos said. “Anyone want to join me for a beer?”

Del and Carrie simultaneously opened their mouths to object, then simultaneously closed them again as the rest of the team gave a hearty endorsement to Carlos’s plan.

They went to a nearby pizza place and spread out across several tables. Katie and Tabitha, being teenagers, got sodas and huddled on the other side of the room from away from the un-cool adults. Kevin, Shane, Thad and Carlos gathered around one table while Missy and Carrie settled at a smaller adjacent table. That left Del and Pastor O’Donnell at a table a short ways away. Though Del enjoyed the pastor’s company well enough, he felt a little put out at not being included with the younger men.

“First round is on me!” Carlos shouted. The guys at Carlos’s table cheered that news enthusiastically.

“He can’t afford to pay rent but he’s buying drinks,” Del grumbled to O’Donnell, who was preoccupied with the menu and simply grunted in reply.

Del watched as the waitress brought a pitcher of beer to the other table. Carlos filled the other men’s mugs. But Carrie leapt up to stop him before he could fill his own.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Carlos asked.

“Are you really going to drink beer in front of your pregnant wife who can’t?” she asked.

“But…everyone else is.”

“Good point. Go ahead, then.”

Carlos was inexperienced at marriage, but he sensed a trap. He glanced at the other men. They were all apparently fascinated by something going on out the window since none of them met his gaze. Carlos looked to see what was so interesting but the street outside was empty.

“Can you bring me a cup for soda,” Carlos called to the waitress meekly.

“Poor guy,” O’Donnell said through a mouthful of hot wing. “I remember how Jennifer was when she was pregnant with Katie.” Del just nodded thoughtfully.

Later that evening, Del poked his head into the kitchen where Carlos was studying at the breakfast table. “Come with me,” Del said.

“Where?” Carlos asked.

“Just come.”

Carlos followed Del out to the garage. Del pulled a cooler off the shelf and opened it. To Carlos’s surprise, it held a six-pack of beer surrounded by ice. Del tossed a beer to Carlos.

“Karen didn’t like me drinking around her when she was pregnant either,” Del said. “So I used to sneak out here to have a beer every once in a while.”

“Clever,” Carlos said as he took a hearty swig and savored the taste. “Do you maybe have a tip on how to keep Carrie from spending all our money on baby clothes?”

“Sorry,” Del said. “She’s just like her mother that way as well. Hey, that was quite a hit you made to end the game today.”

“It was pure luck. Sunscreen ran in my eyes and I couldn’t see a thing. I was swinging blind.”

“I know,” Del said. “That’s what was so impressive.”

“Hey, you’re looking a little pink,” Carlos observed. “Did you ever put sunscreen on?”

“Shut up,” Del replied.

And the two men spent the next couple hours drinking beer, talking sports, and hiding from their wives.