Read Online Heart and Home by Jennifer Melzer - Free Book Online Page A

his
ears and prove that the man who forced me out of bed and drug me off to church
was indeed a clever body snatcher and not my father.
    “. . . and while many of us
have felt the burden of sorrow in our hearts this last week at having lost one
of the most treasured members of our congregation, let us rejoice in the
knowledge that our lord and savior, Jesus Christ, passed on to us when he said,
‘I am the resurrection, and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were
dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall have
everlasting life.’ Let us pray.”
    On instinct, I lowered my
head and closed my eyes as Pastor Crane’s voice reached out, “Dear Lord, we ask
that you join us here today and offer your comfort to the family and loved ones
of Chandra McCarty, who has passed now into your care ...”
    Eight years without prayer,
and suddenly I was on some kind of involuntary binge. Almost defiantly, I
opened my eyes just a little and glanced around at all the lowered heads.
    Amber sat near the front
beside her husband, whom I didn’t recognize and wondered if he was from one of
the neighboring towns. Her mother was there, the children nestled in between
them watching Pastor Crane and fidgeting impatiently. The whole scene was
familiar, reminiscent of my youth, but altered by the fact that I wasn’t one of
those squirming children anymore.
    I looked to the left, into
next row of pews and for the first time I spotted Troy Kepner. His mother’s
walker was positioned at the end of the aisle beside him. He had one hand
curled around the back of the pew in front of him, head slightly tilted, but I
soon discovered his eyes were open when he lifted them to meet with mine. A
flutter of nerves tickled from the inside out when his mouth drew slightly
upward, and he shook his head. I grinned and shrugged my right shoulder just a
little before I resumed proper prayer position just in time for my father to
reach over and take my hand. The notion of being caught in the act of avoiding
prayer widened my smile in reminiscence of my youth.
    Pastor Crane went into the
Lord’s Prayer, and I mouthed over the words, “Our father, who art in heaven...”
as everyone else, even my father beside me, seemed to speak them with
conviction.
    I wondered then if Troy was
praying too, and though a part of me wanted to sneak another glance at him over
my shoulder, I didn’t dare. Not even as the service drew to a close, and the
congregation began moving around to socialize, could I bring myself to look
back at Troy. It wasn’t until Dad finally thanked the last well-wisher that we
turned in Troy’s direction only to find that he and his mother disappeared.
Inside, dismay mixed with relief as Dad looped his arm through mine and finally
escorted me out of the church.
    We drove twenty-five minutes
into Milton to have brunch at the truck stop there, something he explained he
and my mother did almost regularly for the last five years. “It’s a nice
place,” he noted, as our waitress navigated through the Sunday afternoon crowd
with our order.
    I folded my hands and leaned
across the table. “All right, Dad. I’m dying to know,” I started. “Since when
did you start going to church?”
    His face lit up a little as
he shrugged his left shoulder upward. “Oh, just after you went off to college,”
he admitted. “Your mom didn’t like going off to service alone, so I started to
tag along.”
    “And now?”
    Cheeks flushed as he
shrugged in closer to himself. “I don’t know, habit?”
    I nodded, and leaned back
into the booth. “I guess it’s good though, it’ll keep you involved.”
    “Yeah,” he agreed, “I
suppose.”
    “It’s not going to be easy.”
I’d really meant to think those words, rather than say them, but they’d already
slipped out. “I mean, you know, now with Mom gone.”
    His head bobbed up and down,
but I didn’t really think he processed my meaning. We were silent and
thoughtful