Argosy Junction (18 page)

“How’d you know what I was thinking?”

Lane slipped her hand into his and grinned.” I’ve been able to read your thoughts a lot longer than you think I have.”

Before he could reply, Patience whirled to say something and stared at their hands. “I knew you liked her Matt! Lane likes you too!” she added knowingly.

They caught up to her and Matt tugged her hair as Patience bounced along beside them. “Why do you say that?” Matt sent Lane a sideways glance as he waited for Patience’s response.

“She gets grumpy at you. Lane only gets grumpy at people she likes. She never gets grumpy at the
Brethren
. That’s how I figured out that she doesn’t like them, but she got grumpy at you the first day, so I knew she liked you and that’s why I made her go get your stuff.”

“I see.” Matt squeezed Lane’s hand gently and led them both down to the subway. “I’ll have to remember that.”

~*~*~*~

Matt’s church was the antithesis of everything familiar and expected. There were homeless people intermingled with a few well-dressed older people, teenagers in jeans, and young adults in various degrees of dress. One woman sat near the back, caked in makeup, with teased hair, and very little clothing. Lane couldn’t help but ask about her.

“I don’t know her real name. She goes by Trixie, and yes, she’s a prostitute.”

“They let a prostitute in the church?”

Matt’s annoyance was more than evident. “The church is the Bride of Christ, Lane. Jesus ate with prostitutes. He was kind of a hero to them. Who are we to kick them out when He welcomed them? It’s His church after all.”

“But—”

Matt leaned closer and with an evident attempt at self-control, he whispered, “Lane, for someone who hates the
Brethren
as much as you claim to, you can be just as condemning and judgmental as any of them.”

His words smarted—primarily because she knew she deserved them. Before she could respond, the Pastor called them to prayer. Lane had never seen anything like it. It was the most informally formal service she could have imagined. Responsive readings and corporate prayer intermingled with songs that Lane recognized as pure scripture and traditional hymns. A few songs were completely foreign, and she struggled to keep up with the rest of the room. Patience belted everything out as though she’d always attended. Matt stood silent much of the time, causing Lane to wonder about how long he’d attended the church.

However, after the third song, Matt seemed to become aware of his surroundings and participated as though nothing had been amiss. As they seated for the sermon, Matt passed pencils and outline sheets for Lane and Patience. Leaning close, he whispered to Lane, “Does Patience need an extra sheet to draw on?”

“What for?”

Matt shrugged, opened his Bible to the verses in Matthew that comprise the Sermon on the Mount, and dated his paper. Lane followed his example, but minutes later, she realized what he had meant. Patience squirmed. She shuffled her feet. She read the outline, looked carefully at Lane’s paper, and then wrote her name at the top of hers. Idly she drew a flower next to it and then glanced at Lane in alarm. Doodles on her schoolwork were not permitted.

“It’s fine, Patience,” Lane whispered. “You can draw on the back, and Matt has more paper if you need it.”

“What do I draw?”

Lane wrote down a reference on her sheet in the appropriate place and then whispered back, “Whatever you want to. Or, you can try to draw what the man says. Words like Bible, love, help, and stuff like that. Either way.”

Halfway through the service, Lane stole a glance at the woman in the back corner chair. Her mascara was blotched and streaked down her face as she listened to the sermon. The pastor’s emphasis on love in the sermon clearly overwhelmed her. Matt sat with hands clenched, jaw working, and anger building in his eyes. He flashed an indiscernible expression to half a dozen women in the vicinity, but no one noticed the hurting young woman in the back row.

Patience, on the other hand, did see the woman and dug through Lane’s purse for her package of Kleenex. “I’ll be right back.”

Before Lane could stop her, Patience slipped from their row and made her way to the distraught woman. Lane’s eyes grew wide with alarm and started to follow. Matt stopped her. “She’s fine.”

“But Matt—”

“Would I let
anything
hurt that little girl?” Matt’s voice held the edge he’d had earlier.

Lane relaxed against the back of her chair and watched him as he took notes and watched over Patience. Busy with stroking the woman’s arm and passing fresh Kleenex, Patience didn’t return as promised. The pastor noticed, and Lane watched as he occasionally wiped tears from his eyes. He choked up at the oddest places in his lesson, causing the entire assembly to look up sharply.

Eventually a nearby blonde caught the pastor’s line of sight and surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder. Seeing a little girl comforting their occasional prostitute visitor sent her eyes up to the pulpit where the minister nodded saying, “And a little child will lead them.”

From what Lane could see, the entire congregation was now completely puzzled. What the “little child” leading them had anything to do with not “adding a day to your life” with anxiety meant, they didn’t know. Some, those near the back, saw his meaning and smiled. The blonde slipped into the aisle and pulled a chair next to Trixie, smiling at Patience as she did.

After several more fumbles, the pastor closed his Bible and shuffled his notes while he gathered his emotions into slightly more well-ordered ranks. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to pick this up next week. I am a bit moved this morning, and I’m not making sense. Please forgive me. I’d like to give you an assignment this week. See if you can find someone to love as Jesus showed us. See if you can step out of your comfort zone and just love.”

The prayer was brief. Lane had never heard such a short prayer in her life. Prayers were sermon summaries and prefaces in her experience and a simple, “Guide our steps this week that we may glorify
You
,” seemed simplistic.

Matt turned with a pained look on his face. “Will you be okay for a minute?”

Lane nodded and watched, concerned, as Matt fled the room. People slowly filed by, welcoming her and inviting her out to lunch. The pastor gave her a brief smile and started to say something, but Lane waved him over to the corner where Hope and Patience sat talking to Trixie. “I think she needs something.”

The next hour was a blur. Matt stayed gone for some time, and when he returned, no amount of calm demeanor could hide his red eyes and gruff voice. A few women, the pastor, and another man led their distraught guest from the room, and Patience skipped back to Lane’s side.

“She’s very sad.”

“I see that. You were very kind to her, Patience. I’m proud of you.”

Matt picked her up, hugging her fiercely. “I love you little Patience Martha Argosy.”

“I love you too, Matt! Did you know that lady who came and sat with us is the lady who sent me the stuff from India?”

Lane looked at Matt with interest. “Is it really? I wish I could have met her.”

“Oh, you can. She told me to make sure we stayed until she gets back. They’re going to help the crying lady.”

Matt ran down the street for coffees and an Italian soda for Patience. It seemed like the normal thing to do in Matt’s church. Several dozen people milled around with gourmet coffee cups and the number of cups seemed to grow with each passing minute.

Eventually, the blonde and a dark man entered through a side door and made a beeline for Matt and his guests. “Matt!” The blonde squeezed her arm. “You must be Lane. I’m so glad you all waited.”

Lane learned that Trixie, every other week or so, listened to half of the sermon before becoming offended at something the pastor said and storming from the building. She always sat in the same corner with a straight-shot to the door. Though they expected her abrupt departure before the end of the service, the church continually welcomed her each time she arrived. They’d prayed and waited for this day for over six months.

This week, however, something in the sermon pricked her heart. The church had shown her love and treated her unlike any Christians she’d ever met. Rather than condemning her lifestyle as most she encountered did, this church ignored it. She was Trixie the person, not Trixie the prostitute to them. The men were careful not to single her out without a female with them, but other than that, she was treated no differently than any other attendee.

“So she’s repentant? The tears are grief over her sin? This is good, right?”

Hope gave Lane a weak smile. “It’s more complicated than simple repentance. I believe she’s felt repentant for some time. However, Lynn—that’s her real name by the way—knows the difference between feeling repentant and being repentant. She’s crying because she wants to change her life and obey Christ, but to do that means she has no way of supporting herself. No life. Her friends will shun her; her customers will bother her and there are people who may try to harm her.”

“But that is good that she wants to make the change.”

Matt sighed and draped an arm around Lane’s shoulder. “It’s not like when I converted, Lane. My life stayed pretty much the same. I still had a job, I still had a family, and I didn’t have to worry about my safety. Repentance is like doing a one-eighty in the street and driving the other way, but many times, it just feels like adjusting the wheel for a slightly different path. Lynn is going to have to do a one-eighty.”

Patience piped up wisely. “Like the man said about when Jesus said that you have to leave father and mother and follow him. That means giving up
everything
just for Jesus.”

“She’s willing to do that?” Lane was both amazed and impressed. Life or death Christianity was not something she’d ever encountered in her little safe town in the Montana foothills.

Hope nodded, tears forming in her eyes. “Pastor Barnett said it right, ‘and a little child shall lead them.’ She’s scared because she doesn’t know where she’ll live, how she’ll live, or what she’ll do. Barney’s making arrangements to move her into a permanent room at the mission, and they’ll help her find some kind of marketable skill.”

“You do all of that for someone?”

Jay Brown slipped his arms around his wife, leaned his chin on her head, and said, “Of course.”

Before Lane could reply, Patience tugged at her sleeve. “Lane, I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

Hope got Lane’s room number and agreed to take them all on a tour of little India on Tuesday. “I’ll bring Jay’s
amma
. She’ll love Patience.”

~*~*~*~

They took their food to the city park and ate on the picnic benches. Patience fed her breadcrumbs to the ducks, exclaimed over the swans, and then raced to swing. Lane almost called her back protesting that she wasn’t dressed for play, but the first time her dress flew up, Lane noticed that she wore her bicycle shorts.

“Tuck your skirt under your leg!”

“She’s wearing bicycle shorts?” Matt seemed confused.

“It’s a habit. Carrie and I wore bloomers—”

“Like Laura Ingalls old fashioned underwear bloomers?”

Lane nodded. “Yep. They fit the style of the jumpers better than the bike shorts, but I convinced Dad that since they’re not supposed to be seen, bike shorts do the job just as well for Patience.”

“What’s the difference?”

“They’re easier for us. We can buy them at any department store, they hide under the dress better, and they’re less bulky. Not as cute, I grant you, but they work and save Mom a lot of sewing time.”

As she watched Patience swing higher with each pump of the legs, Lane changed the subject. “Mom is coming Wednesday. We’ll take your parents out to dinner and then she’s leaving on Thursday and taking Patience with her.”

“When does your dad come?”

“Sunday night, late. I probably won’t see him until Monday morning.”

A comfortable silence settled around them as they both digested what her staying could mean. Matt finally turned and asked, “Are you okay being alone like that? You could stay with us those days. I’d give you my room and take the couch—”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“You’re really staying.” Matt breathed the words as though relieved.

Lane’s hands fidgeted with her beaded belt as she tried to muster the courage to say what she needed to say. Finally, she forced herself to catch Matt’s eyes and lay down her gauntlet. “I’m staying because I need to know if—” She hated the game it felt like she had to play. “Oh, I don’t know how to explain it. It sounds both silly and premature no matter what I try to say.”

“Lane, I wanted more time with you. I wanted it because I wanted to know if the love I do have for you, however you define that, is sufficient to make life-changing decisions for.”

“That’s it! That’s it exactly.” Visibly sagging in relief, Lane leaned against Matt’s arm. “So, you want me to stay? Dad says since I’m driving, he can fly back instead of riding with me, and I can stay longer if I need to.”

“But the real question is—” Matt put his arm around her and smiled into her eyes. “Will you stay long enough?”

~*~*~*~

After another matinee, dinner at Matt’s favorite Chinese restaurant, and another fried ice cream, which Lane declared sinfully decadent, Matt stopped in a toy store, bought a game, and they all trooped back to the Towers. Patience scrambled into her pajamas and set up the board. The game of Life was afoot.

As they raced to the end of the board, Matt noticed that Lane’s heart wasn’t in it. She went through the motions, but the animation and competitiveness of their earlier game of concentration was missing. By the time Patience got to the final retirement home, she was tired, emotional, and thoroughly homesick.

Lane tucked her into bed and flipped open her cell phone. She dialed home and passed the phone to her sniffling sister. “I’ll be in there with Matt. You call me when you’re done talking.”

She kicked off her shoes, sank into the corner of the loveseat, and dropped her head in her hands. “I knew this was imminent. Tomorrow and Tuesday are going to be nightmares.”