Jaded (25 page)

Chapter Forty-Three

“Your mother dated Neil Blaylock?” Maria's mouth hung open in surprise.

“Creepy, huh?” We met in the gym for Friday night's basketball game against Ballinger. Grady had played a few minutes of the game, and JohnScott and Dodd sat on the bench, assisting the head basketball coach.

Maria's face furrowed. “I can't picture your mother with Neil. Did you ask her about it?”

“Even better, I asked Aunt Velma.”

“And?”

Dodd glanced casually into the stands, his eyes searching, and I waited until he turned away.

“She said they dated in high school, and it lasted a couple years after they graduated.”

“What happened?”

“Neil broke up with her.” And Momma had been heartbroken for months after, but I left out that part, since I was none too proud of it.

Maria lowered her head, obviously not as concerned with Momma's past as she was with my present. “Dodd Cunningham has been looking at you for the entire game.”

I had already noticed, but I chose to ignore him along with Maria's comment. When the final buzzer sounded, I stood. “Want a Coke?”

“Dr Pepper.”

“Let's go.”

Maria could easily be distracted with food and drink, but of course she was right. As much as I hated to admit it, every time Dodd turned around, my insides leaped like a large-mouth bass at Lake Alan Henry, but then reality splashed into the depths of the cold, dark water, suffocating me.

Because things couldn't work out between Dodd and me. They just couldn't.

The soft-drink machine lay in a broad hallway leading to the locker rooms, and fans and players congregated there after games. Maria and I were retrieving our drinks when JohnScott came up behind us. He nudged me with his elbow. “Ruthie, give me a drink.”

“Get your own.”

“I don't have a dollar.”

“Okay, but just one sip.”

He nodded, then chugged my Dr Pepper like a desert dweller.

“Stop it.” I laughed.

He shook the can and handed it back. “There you go, little cousin. I left you a sip like you said.”

“It's all spit now.”

JohnScott's banter soothed my nerves like soft music, and I punched him in the chest. I had missed him.

His gaze swept over my head. “Dodd, want the last of Ruthie's D.P.?”

I didn't hear Dodd answer because Maria crooned in my ear, “Well, if it isn't Mr. Stare-at-Ruthie.”

“I'll take it,” Grady called. “I'm parched.”

JohnScott took the can from me, swept it out of my reach, and handed it to Grady.

“It's empty, Ruthie,” Grady complained. “Why would you offer me an empty drink? I'm appalled.” He tilted his head back and let the last few drops of liquid fall into his mouth. “Ruthie-the-checker-girl, did I just drink your spit?”

“No, JohnScott's.” I dragged the words out, enjoying the look on Grady's face.

He froze for a split second, then threw his arms around my cousin. “We're blood brothers now, Coach Pickett.”

We wandered into the parking lot, where the frigid air took my breath away. JohnScott looped his arm around my neck, making it easier for me to ignore Dodd. “Need a ride home, little cousin?”

“I rode with Maria.”

“Ms. Fuentes, I'll take Ruthie home, 'kay?”

“Sure thing, Coach. I'll see you both on Monday.”

Tension slid from my shoulders, and I breathed deeply for the first time all evening. I had my cousin back.

Gradually, Panther fans drifted to their vehicles until the only cars remaining in the parking lot were JohnScott's truck and Dodd's El Camino. When it was only the four of us, it became more difficult to ignore Dodd, and I was ready to leave.

Apparently Grady was too. “Dodd, throw me the keys. I'll pull the El Camino down here and pick you up.” He lifted his hand and caught the keys as Dodd tossed them. “And give me your cell phone. I'll text Mom.”

“I need to get home too,” I said. “I've got work tomorrow.”

I reached for the passenger door of JohnScott's truck, surprised to find it locked.

I waited, listening to JohnScott and Dodd discuss the game, until Grady arrived.

“Hey, Coach Pickett,” Grady called, “do you have a copy of the study guide for history? I can't find mine.”

Dodd tapped the passenger window of the El Camino. “Open up, Grady.”

His brother didn't notice.

“I think I've got it right here in the truck,” JohnScott said. “Hold on a minute.”

Dodd knocked again. “Grady, unlock already.”

I peered into JohnScott's cab and jiggled the door handle so he would think to let me in. He didn't even look up. Disbelief paralyzed me as JohnScott shut the driver's door, started the ignition, and drove away.

Grady followed him, honking as he pulled out of the parking lot, and Dodd and I stared after them as their taillights disappeared down the street.

An apprehensive vibration inched its way from my knees to my stomach to my heart, sending an unwanted blip of anticipation into my bloodstream. I shoved it away. My back was toward Dodd, and I didn't want to turn around, but it would be childish to walk away. I turned, and his expression told me none of this had been his idea. The warm vibration drained from my heart like the trickle of our kitchen faucet during a freeze.

He thrust his hands into his pockets. “I guess they think this is funny.”

“They'll be back.”

The emptiness of the lot made the air feel colder, and the smoky scent of a nearby fireplace reminded me how warm it would be at home by the fire. A breeze stirred my hair, sending a whisper of icy air past my neck, and I pulled my coat around me, dreaming of ways to torture and kill my cousin. It would be a slow death.

A car horn echoed from downtown, less than a mile away, and I sighed helplessly.

“Sounds like they're at the car wash.” Dodd's boots crunched gravel as he studied the school building. “Sorry about this, Ruthie. My brother's sense of humor sometimes gets the best of him.” He laughed a little, then cleared his throat. “And I'm sorry … about everything.”

I pointed my face into the wind, letting air slide past my cheeks and cleanse my mind. “Me, too.” How long would JohnScott leave me here? It infuriated me that he and Grady forced this. I tapped my foot. “I could've been home by now if I'd started walking.” I took three steps toward the street, then glanced back at him.

He followed.

We trudged in silence for the first block, and as we approached the corner where he would turn toward his house, I blurted, “Well, bye,” afraid he would insist on seeing me home.

He did.

“You don't have to.”

“I know, but it's the right thing to do.”

In the moonlight, all I could make out was his silhouette. “Do you always do the right thing?”

His answer was immediate. “Obviously not.”

An animal rustled in a bush next to a house, then darted across the street. A cat.

Dodd slowed his steps. “I'm sorry about the church, Ruthie. It's a mess down there right now. Lots of the members—like Emily Sanders and her family—don't know what to do.
Who to follow.
They're confused.” He paused, and the weariness in his voice pulled at my compassion. “Neil's wife is upset because of the way he's treating Fawn.”

My heart hurt. Dodd wanted to fix it, but there was no way he could.

He stopped in the middle of the street. “But most of all, I'm sorry about the way I handled our relationship.”

We stood face-to-face beneath the glow of a streetlight, and my darkness began to crack until a sliver of light illuminated my hopelessness.
This man.
This man had wrapped me in warmth since the first day we met. I looked into his sad eyes, but a tear slid down my own cheek, not his.

His thumb wiped at the wetness, and I leaned my cheek against his palm.

He inhaled slowly, but his breath caught. “I love you, Ruthie.”

“I know.”

When his lips brushed mine, I didn't protest, couldn't even if I'd wanted to. My arms slipped around his waist, and his fingers meshed through my hair. He gripped the back of my head, and I sensed his desperation as he pressed his mouth against mine and walked me backward. I don't think he realized what he was doing until I was pinned against the light post, his body pressed against mine.

He pulled away, ducking his head apologetically, and then traced his finger along the path where my lone tear had fallen. “Ruthie, forget about the church. Talk to God.”

A car turned at the corner, and its headlights blinded me back to reality. “God?” I slipped away from him and crossed my arms against the cold.

“Don't go.” He leaned against the post. “God wants to help you, Ruthie. Why won't you let Him?”

I took a deep breath and let it out in a frozen mist. “I'll talk to Him about it … but I can't go to your church, Dodd.”

“I know.” He pulled me toward him and held me against his chest, kissing the top of my head. “I'm not asking you to.”

 

Chapter Forty-Four

When Lee Roy Goodnight and Charlie Mendoza dropped by the parsonage on Saturday afternoon, Dodd had no doubt he would lose his job. The elders' request for his family to stay away from Clyde, Fawn, and the Turners had been blown apart by his mom's and Grady's visit to the Dairy Queen earlier in the week, and Dodd felt certain Neil had driven past Ruthie and him the night before.

He didn't regret his actions any more than his family regretted theirs, but his attitude regarding the church leadership shamed him. He hadn't turned out to be a very submissive minister—or Christian—but given the opportunity, he'd continue talking to Ruthie. If she let him.

Lee Roy and Charlie sat in the living room, avoiding eye contact. Dodd pulled a couple of chairs from the kitchen, and he and Grady settled into them as his mother removed a pie from the oven. The scent of meringue followed her into the room.

Lee Roy cleared his throat. “Dodd, I'm sorry we're not here under more pleasant circumstances.” He reached for a needlework magazine on the coffee table, absentmindedly laying it across his knees before fingering the corner.

Charlie withdrew a folded paper from the hip pocket of his Wranglers. “We thought it would be easier to communicate in written form.” He opened the paper and glanced at Dodd as he rested a pair of lightweight glasses on the end of his nose. “Do you mind if I read it aloud?”

“Please do.” Dodd remained calm, but his heart cramped. He had put a tremendous amount of energy into the little congregation and had planned to do much more. He felt his family was being sent away before they had finished the job.

Charlie's cheeks turned rosy as he read.

Brother Cunningham,

As shepherds of the Trapp congregation, we would like to thank you for the service you have granted our flock. You and your family have been a source of encouragement not only to our congregation but also to our community. Your sermons are doctrinally sound and always ring true. Since your arrival, our congregation has seen spiritual growth unparalleled in the history of our church. Your effort, talent, and love are to be commended.

Because of the bond each of us feels, it is difficult for us to breach the current situation with you, and much time and prayer have gone into our decision. We regret to inform you that, as of today, you are dismissed from your position as minister of the Trapp congregation. As is customary, you will receive two weeks' advance salary. You are at liberty to remain in the parsonage until you acquire alternate living arrangements, not exceeding eight weeks' time.

We pray blessings on future ministries to which the Lord may lead you. We have enclosed a letter of recommendation for future employers.

Sincerely,

Lee Roy Goodnight

Charlie Mendoza

Neil Blaylock

Charlie folded the letter, then handed it to Dodd as though it might burn him if he held it any longer.

Dodd leaned with elbows on thighs, holding the paper. When he looked up, he thought the sadness in Charlie's eyes would break him. “Charlie? Lee Roy?” He hesitated before asking softly, “Do you support this decision?”

Lee Roy dropped his gaze and blinked at the magazine in his lap. He frowned and returned it to the table. “Dodd … so much has happened.”

“I know, Lee Roy. The decision couldn't have been an easy one.”

Charlie let his shoulders relax. “We talked until we were blue in the face. Lee Roy and me? We're caught in the middle. We don't want to see you go, but it came down to Neil's word against yours.” He shook his head. “Roots run deep.”

Lee Roy wheezed a small cough. “We had to stand behind our man. Neil's going through so much turmoil right now, he's about to break in two.”

Dodd felt the effects of too many sleepless nights catching up to him, and he blew out an exhausted breath. “I understand, but I hate it for the church.”

Charlie rose slowly. “This has been difficult for everyone involved.”

“Sure has,” Lee Roy said as he patted Milla on the shoulder.

“There's something else.” Charlie paused at the door. “Neil requested you clean out your desk … today.”

Dodd's jaw tightened. Up until then he felt sorry for the men delivering such bad news. Now his pity ran short, and he stifled his frustration. “No problem. Grady and I will go right now.”

“We'll go with you,” Lee Roy said.

Dodd scrutinized him, wondering if the old man meant to keep an eye on him. He picked up his keys and switched into autopilot. “I'll need to go by the United and get a few boxes out of the back Dumpster. I've got a lot of books.”

“Let me help,” Charlie said. “We can take my truck.”

Dodd shrugged and then told Grady to bring Lee Roy to the church building in the El Camino. They would meet there and get this over with.

He rode in the passenger seat of Charlie's truck with his mind surprisingly vacant. Maybe being released from his preaching position cleared his head—if only for a few seconds. His thoughts drifted away from the church and all its drama. All he could think of was Ruthie and what she must think of him. He sighed as they pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, but when he saw her standing by her mother's car, his mind jerked to attention and his pulsed raced.

“Well, don't that beat all,” Charlie said as he maneuvered his truck behind the Dumpster, blocking their view of the parking lot.

“What?” Dodd reached for the door handle, anxious to get one more look at Ruthie before she and her mother drove away.

“I could've sworn I saw Neil over there talking to Lynda Turner.”