Sensing Debbie’s gaze upon her again, Laurel knew she was staring fixedly out the window. Determined to retain some sense of normalcy, she spread butter over the grits on her plate and ate them and the egg in front of her as if she had a good appetite.
“If you want to fill the dishwasher, I’ll go upstairs and get ready.”
“I’ll take care of everything, but I still think we should postpone our trip,” Debbie insisted.
Laurel forced a laugh. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been tired when I’ve gotten out of bed. Let’s plan to leave in an hour.”
While she luxuriated in the big bathtub and lathered vigorously with her lavender-scented bath gel, Laurel thought about Micah Davidson. Although she’d fleetingly wondered if Micah could have been the midnight caller, after she’d heard him humming this morning, she’d discounted that idea. Micah had a bass voice, and he couldn’t carry a tune. The man on the phone had a melodious tenor voice. Thinking about Micah lifted Laurel’s spirits, and she decided she wouldn’t allow last night’s incident to ruin her day with Debbie.
Stepping from the tub, Laurel patted her body dry with a large towel. She applied body lotion, and for a moment her worries receded as the lotion soothed her body. Laurel habitually denied herself for others, but she did indulge herself with a fragrant bath.
After dressing in a pair of striped capris and a white knit blouse, she sat in her grandmother’s rocking chair for her morning devotions. She felt close to her grandmother in this chair, since she was the one who had guided Laurel’s spiritual maturation. She turned to her grandmother’s favorite Scripture in the book of Philippians and read softly.
“‘I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.’”
Her grandmother hadn’t had an easy life, but she’d never doubted that God had sustained her through each problem. Laurel, too, had experienced enough sorrow since her marriage to make her bitter, but she’d kept a degree of contentment, in spite of the circumstances.
Fortified by the words she’d read, Laurel left her room with less trepidation than she’d had since that mysterious phone call. As soon as she and Debbie drove away from Oaklawn, Laurel pushed the call to the back of her mind. They had a pleasant day as they picked up the wedding invitations, registered for more of Debbie’s gift preferences at two stores and enjoyed a lunch in their favorite Chinese restaurant.
For the next two nights, knowing that she was taking the coward’s way out, Laurel disconnected the phone when she went to bed. Although her body tensed each time she heard the phone during the day, she had no mysterious messages. Occasionally, she wondered if the call had been a dream.
Debbie worked on the evening shift at a fast-food restaurant in Knoxville. For the first three days after he’d moved into the apartment, Micah also left early and didn’t return until late, so Laurel was alone most of the time. On Saturday evening, as Laurel sat on the gallery, she heard a car approaching. When she saw that it was Micah, she waved to him. In a short time, she heard his steps on the graveled pathway.
“Good evening, Mrs. Cooper,” he said.
“You might as well call me Laurel. We’re not very formal in this neighborhood.”
“I’m not formal at all,” he said, “So good evening, Laurel.”
A dimple at the corner of her mouth deepened. “Hello, Micah. You’re home early.”
“Yes. I’ve had a busy week, so I’m ready for some rest.”
“Come and sit down,” she invited. “This is a good place to relax. It’s been a hectic week for me, too, and I had to take time to let my body catch up with my soul. I’m preparing myself for worship tomorrow. Will you go to church with us in the morning?”
Settling down in the rocking chair beside her and stretching out his long legs, Micah said, “I haven’t been to church for so long, I wouldn’t know how to act.”
With a smile, Laurel said, “I doubt things have changed much since you used to go to church. We have a small sanctuary and a simple order of worship. You wouldn’t have a problem.”
“Fact is,” Micah said, “I’m not much interested in organized churches anymore. I’ve spent my adult life traveling, mostly in isolated places, where there aren’t any church buildings. I worship the God of Creation. I can have ‘church’ anywhere.”
Disturbed by his comments, Laurel said, “I’m sure that’s true, but don’t you miss the fellowship of other Christians? I need the strength and support I receive on Sunday to deal with any problems I might have during the week.”
Micah seemed to deliberate a few moments before he answered. “In my line of work, sometimes months pass without the opportunity to worship with a congregation. But when I see God’s handiwork in what He’s created—the skies, the trees, the animals—it’s easy for me to worship.”
Laurel wasn’t normally argumentative about the Scriptures, but she had the feeling that Micah was missing the most important principle. “That’s all well and good,” she said, “as long as you acknowledge the place of Jesus, God’s Son, in the creation of the world.”
Micah looked puzzled, and he said, “I remember something about that from my childhood when I went to Sunday School.”
Laurel didn’t press her opinion at that time. She, too, could see God in the universe around her. And she believed it was only a short distance from acknowledging God, Who created the world, and believing that His Son, Jesus, was the Savior of mankind. She doubted that Micah had made that connection.
“Then you will go to church with Debbie and me tomorrow?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m looking forward to meeting your daughter. With my long hours, I’ve missed my chances so far.”
Laurel said proudly, “I know I’m prejudiced, but she is a fine girl.”
Micah thought if Debbie was anything like her mother, she would be worth meeting.
Hesitantly, Laurel continued, “If we’re asking something that you don’t want to do, please say so. But Debbie wants to know if you’ll consider photographing her wedding on August twenty-fifth. Will you still be in Tennessee then?”
“I’m not sure, but if I agree to photograph the wedding, I’ll come back for it. But you should know that, although I’ve photographed a few weddings, I’m not at my best when photographing people. I prefer landscapes or anything in the natural environment.”
“Let me show you what we have in mind before you make a commitment.”
A gentle breeze blew from the river as they walked into the wide expanse of yard to the left of the house. The breeze ruffled Laurel’s red curls, and as she pointed out various things, Micah observed her, wondering that her red hair hadn’t a trace of gray. Modern hair colors could work wonders, but he doubted there was a rinse on her hair.
“We’ve chosen the southern lawn for the reception,” she explained. “We’re planning an early afternoon wedding, and the house will shade most of this area. The lawn is rather spacious, as you can see. We’re expecting about a hundred guests, but it’s an open wedding list, so it’s difficult to know how many we’ll have. We’ve rented tents and tables. If we have an overflow, some of them can sit under the shade trees. The ladies of our church are cooking the dinner.”
Micah sauntered around the area, looking at it with his professional eye, considering the shading and judging the position of the sun in three months.
“What time is the ceremony?” he asked.
“The music will start at one o’clock, and the processional a half hour later.”
“Then,