One year after being released from prison
Sunday morning, I snuck into the back of Drew’s church just as the organ music started to play. The same Nativity scene was in place beside the altar. This was the first time since that day over a year ago that I’d returned to the church. Every time I spoke to Drew, which had been only three times in the last twelve months, he’d invited me to visit his church. To this point I’d never taken him up on his invitation.
Until now.
Having completed all four phases of the program with Hope Center, I was transitioning into the real world, and I admit I was terrified of the future. I’d finished all the program requirements, and applied for and found a job working as a server in The Corner Café. Following graduation, I’d be moving into a tiny house provided by Hope Center. And when I say tiny, I mean tiny. It was minuscule. Just enough room for a bed, a sink, a stove, and a bathroom. The idea was that, within a year of graduation, I’d be able to live without any additional assistance from Hope Center. That remained to be seen. A lot was left to the unknown, which made me uncomfortable.
While wanting to believe I was ready to start my new life over without the weight of past mistakes, I remained skeptical. With doubts running through my mind night and day, I wasn’t sleeping well. Every time I closed my eyes I was bombarded by worries. All the what-ifs seemed to buzz around inside my head like pesky flies and there wasn’t a flyswatter in sight.
Lilly, my counselor, had been supportive, but I’d already failed miserably once, and there was nothing to say I’d be a success this time.
As I slipped into a pew as close to the back of the church as I could get, I recalled my initial meeting with Lilly. I’d scoffed about the possibility of the other woman becoming a friend. Like most everything else, I gradually learned Lilly had been right. Lilly Palmer had become a good friend. It didn’t happen overnight, but as we worked together I’d begun to trust her with my secrets and let go of the resentments that I carried around like an extra set of luggage. I’d never had anyone like her in my life. Over the last year, Lilly had become a sounding board and an encourager. Best of all, I was beginning to dream again.
The music ebbed to a close and Linda Kincaid stepped up to the lectern. I recognized her from the Bring-a-Meal program Drew’s church participated in. I’d never had the nerve to tell her I’d met Drew. If Drew had mentioned me, then Linda hadn’t reached out to me, either. The woman intimidated me. Perhaps it was her height, or knowing Linda was close to Drew and that he depended on her. I wasn’t sure what it was.
Although it might sound ridiculous, I felt close to Drew, too, although those feelings were completely one-sided. After all, I’d talked to the man a total of only four times. But each one of those meetings had played back in my mind a thousand times.
One day I hoped to marry a man like him. Not a pastor but a decent man who wasn’t into drugs or cheating or hitting women. Sounds simple, right? Well, from my experience those men were few and far between, and if I did happen upon one, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d recognize him.
After everything I’d been through in my life, building a relationship with a man was going to be tough. An even bigger challenge would be exploring a relationship with a Being greater than myself. Yet here I was, ready to do both for the first time as the new Shay.
I focused my attention to the front of the church. Linda Kincaid read the Scripture verse for that morning from Psalm 56 and then quietly took her seat. Caught up in my thoughts, I’d heard only part of the reading.
After Linda left the lectern, Drew approached. He wore a suit and tie, and for a moment I was mesmerized. Every other time I’d ever seen him, he’d been dressed casually. The last three times we’d met at Hope Center had followed basketball and he was in workout gear. I barely recognized him and knew that every unmarried woman in the entire church must have a huge crush on him.
“The topic of this morning’s sermon is worry.”
Hold up.
Wait a minute.
My mind started to swirl. How was this possible? How did Drew know my head was completely messed up with worries and concerns about my future? I wanted to hit the side of my head to be certain I’d heard him correctly.
“When we worry,” Drew continued, “we take reality and move it into the realm of fiction. What is real is transferred into the land of monsters and dragons, which are far bigger and frightening than they really are.”
I sat up straighter and scooted so close to the edge of the pew that I was in danger of slipping off entirely. I’d been doing exactly what Drew was saying. Because I was moving out of Hope Center, I lived in fear of the future. My head had been filled with scenarios of everything I could do to mess up my life yet again.
I’d been discounting all the tools the center had given me to make a success of my future. I had a job and a place to live and good friends who were willing to guide me along the way.
Yet here I was stewing, stirring up doubts and fears, not trusting myself. With all the stinking thinking that had been going on inside my head, it was like I was about to move into Jurassic Park just before the dinosaurs broke loose.
The rest of Drew’s sermon seemed as if it’d been written just for me. I felt dumbstruck. Just before he finished, it looked like his gaze zoomed to the back of the church and landed squarely on me. I could have been off base, but it seemed that his smile was meant solely for me.
At the end of the service there was more music. Drew left the front of the church and walked down the center aisle, and then stood at the door to shake hands with the congregation as they exited the building.
Because I’d come for a specific purpose, I waited until there were only a few stragglers before I approached him. I watched as he interacted with each person, greeting them by name, shaking their hands and asking pertinent questions.
He really was good at his job, making everyone feel welcome. I wanted him to know that I appreciated everything that he’d done for me. I doubted I’d be able to tell him that. Because of him I’d been given another chance.
All too soon it was my turn. As I approached, Drew recognized me and his face lit up with a warm smile.
“Shay,” he said, taking my hand in both of his. “I see you finally accepted my invitation.”
“Yes.” Color invaded my cheeks. I could feel the heat coming up from my neck.
“It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.” My hand felt warm in his. He held my gaze for an extra-long moment and his smile seemed to cut into me, breaking through my hesitation.
“From what I understand, you’re about to graduate,” he said.
I nodded. “Actually, that’s the reason I’m here.”
“How do you mean?”
He released my hand as if he’d forgotten he was still holding it. I immediately felt the loss of his touch.
All at once I was unsure this was the right thing to do. He was a busy man. A single father, and I was about to ask him…
“Shay,” he said, calling attention away from my thoughts. “What’s going on in that head of yours? From the way you’re frowning I’d guess it’s nothing good. Are you having troubles at the center?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I came to invite you to my graduation. It’s no big deal if you can’t come. I just thought, you know, that because you…well, you know.” I exhaled, convinced I’d made a mess of this invite.
His smile was immediate. “I’d be honored to attend.”
“You would?” As soon as the words escaped my mouth I wanted to pull them back. I’d worked hard on being confident, and the question made me sound weak and vulnerable.
“When is it?”
I was about to tell him when a little girl in pigtails came racing up to him.
“Can we go home now?” she asked, looking up at Drew.
I knew Sarah from the times she’d been at the center. During the summer months Drew’s daughter had accompanied him on Wednesdays when he played basketball with Kevin and the others. Sarah went to the children’s center, where I pitched in when needed. I wondered if she’d remember me. She looked adorable in her Sunday best, with her pretty dress and Mary Jane shoes.
Drew reached down and placed an arm around her shoulder. “Sarah, I want you to meet a friend of mine. Her name is Shay.”
The little girl beamed me an awkward smile. Her front teeth were coming in and she was apparently self-conscious about the big gap in the front of her mouth.
“I know Miss Shay,” Sarah said, smiling up at me.
“You do?”
“From the center. She worked with the kids and she was lots of fun.”
It pleased me that she remembered. “Hello again, Sarah.”
“Hi. The first time we met you told me how much you liked my name, remember?”
“Of course. It’s a pretty name.”
“It’s from the Bible.”
“Is it?” I’d suspected it was from somewhere in the Bible. I wasn’t completely sure where, though. The child probably knew better than me.
“Her name used to be Sari.”
That was something else I didn’t know.
“That happens,” Sarah explained. “God changes the names of people sometimes.”
“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know,” she said and looked to her father. “Daddy, why did God change Sarah’s name?”
Drew smiled down at his daughter. “It usually happened when God was about to do something big in their lives. With Sarah it was because she was about to have a baby.”
“Oh.” His daughter readily accepted his explanation.
Drew looked to me. “Shay has invited us to attend her graduation.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “That sounds important. Do you need a new name?”
The question took me by surprise. “I might,” I said, smiling back at her.
The youngster’s eyes widened with excitement. “Can I help you choose?”
I noticed Drew’s grin. “Sure,” I said.
“Daddy, can we invite Shay to have dinner with us? Please?” she pleaded and grabbed hold of my hand. “That way I can help her choose her new name.”
Automatically I shook my head. “No, no, I can’t.”
Sarah was looking up at her father, her eyes wide and pleading. “If you’re going to choose another name, then this is serious business,” Drew said, directing the comment to me. “It would mean a lot to Sarah if you’d agree to join us.”
Still, I hesitated. “You’re sure?” He didn’t really know me, and it was a leap of faith for him to invite me to meet his family.
“Very sure,” he said.
“Say you will,” Sarah pleaded, tugging my hand as if needing to garner my attention. “Dad puts it in the Crock-Pot,” she explained, and then lowered her voice. “He isn’t a good cook, but he tries.”
“In other words,” Drew joked, “we’re never quite sure what we’re getting, although the Crock-Pot seems to work best for me.”
“You’ll come, won’t you?” Sarah asked, wrapping her arm around mine and tilting her head back to look up at me.
“Okay,” I said. I probably shouldn’t have agreed, but I hated to disappoint Sarah.
The little girl tightened her hand around mine and pulled me along, apparently eager to be on our way. “We live next to the church in the parsonage.”
“Where’s your brother?” Drew asked his daughter.
“He went to the house. I told him it was his turn to set the table.”
Drew shared a look with me. “She’s a little bossy at times,” he said under his breath.
“Am not,” Sarah argued.
Drew ignored her rebuke. “Why don’t you wait here a few minutes and we can all walk over to the house together. I have a couple things to finish up.” Looking my way again, his gaze connected with mine.
“All right.” I remained overwhelmed first by the invitation, and also by Sarah’s easy acceptance of me.
The little girl led me to the door leading out of the church, chattering the entire time. “Did you know my mother died?” she asked.
“I did and I’m sorry.”
“I hardly remember her anymore,” she said sadly. “But she’s looking down from heaven and watching over me. Daddy told me that I can still talk to her if I want but that she won’t be able to answer. Sometimes I go to sleep telling her about school. She always wanted to know that stuff. I wonder if she’s made friends with the angels.”
“I’m sure she has,” I said, hoping to sound reassuring to the child. She was small and didn’t look to be more than six or seven, although I knew she was nine from the times she’d been at the center.
Drew returned and walked with us outside. Just as she’d said, the parsonage was next to the church, tucked in the back of the property. I’d noticed it before but didn’t realize it was a residence. It was built of brick, the same as the church, which must have been constructed before earthquake building codes were passed. We were at the front door when someone back at the church called for Drew.
He turned and answered. “Go on in. This will only take a moment.”
Sarah opened the front door and ushered me into the house, which was surprisingly neat.
As soon as we crossed the threshold, she called out to her brother, “Mark, we have company.”
A boy appeared who didn’t look to be anywhere close to thirteen. He looked too small for thirteen, and had a smattering of freckles across his nose. He looked at me and blinked.
“That’s Mark,” Sarah said. “He’s a brat.”
“Am not,” Mark growled.
“I’m Shay,” I said and held out my hand. Mark took it and gave me one hard shake before releasing me.
“Did you set the table?” Sarah demanded with hands braced against her hips.
It didn’t take me long to figure out who the dominant sibling was. Sarah ruled this roost.
“We have our big meal Sunday after church,” Sarah explained, leading the way into the kitchen. “Today it’s pot roast. Dad wakes up early on Sundays and gets everything cooking before he leaves for the church, otherwise it would be hours and hours before we could eat.”
“Good idea.” Looking around the kitchen, I could see that Drew had taken care of almost everything well in advance. Serving dishes lined the countertop along with the necessary serving spoons.
Mark got another place setting out of the silverware drawer and added it to the table while Sarah opened a second drawer and removed a pen and pad.
“What’s that for?” he asked his sister.
Sarah looked over at me and offered me a toothless smile. “We’re choosing a new name for Shay because…” She hesitated and looked to me. “Did you tell me why you wanted a new name?”
“Because I’m graduating and starting a new life.”
“What do you want your name to be?” she asked, scooting out the chair and setting the pen and tablet on the table.
“I’m not quite sure yet,” I admitted.
“Do you like the name Dory?” she asked. “She’s one of my favorite characters.”
“She doesn’t want to be named after an animated fish,” Mark tossed out, sounding disgusted with his sister.
“It would be hard to change my name completely,” I explained, “because it’s my legal name and everything is listed under Shay Benson. I was thinking.” I paused and pressed one finger against my bottom lip. “Maybe we could add something to the name I already have.”
“Good idea,” Sarah said approvingly.
“Give me an example,” Mark said as he set an extra plate on the table.
This wasn’t as easy as it sounded. “Well…because I’m starting over I’m looking to make wise decisions. I want to be confident, too.” Both children studied me as I mulled over other names. “Your father’s sermon this morning had to do with trust and I want to include that.”
“I have an idea,” Sarah said, tapping the end of the pencil against the pad as if to keep up with her thoughts. “You could add those words to the end of your name.”
I didn’t get it. “How do you mean?”
“Keep your real name, like you said, but add to it. Shay the graduate.”
“That’s stupid,” Mark grumbled.
“No, it isn’t,” his sister insisted.
“You might be onto something, Sarah. How about Shay, a wise, trusting, and confident woman?” I asked. That wasn’t me, but it was the woman I hoped to be one day.
“Yes,” Sarah said excitedly. “That sounds perfect.”
I heard the front door open and I looked up as Drew entered the house.
“Daddy, Daddy, we have a new name for Shay only it’s still Shay because she said she had to keep that for some reason. We decided to add the new names to her already name.” When she finished speaking she was breathless.
Drew placed his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. He looked to me. “So what’s your extended name?”
I hesitated and so Sarah filled in for me. “Shay, a wise, confident, trusting woman. Isn’t that good!” the youngster said, looking well pleased with herself.
“It’s very good,” Drew said, holding my gaze. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”
“When are we going to eat?” Mark asked, sounding bored. “I’m hungry.”
“I am, too,” Drew said and headed for the Crock-Pot. He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s nothing special, so don’t get your hopes up,” he warned me.
The truth was, just spending time with Drew and his children was special enough. He could have been serving sawdust for all I cared.