Bluegrass Courtship (15 page)

T
he state fair had nothing on Middleburg today. Janet sat on the hood of her Jeep and watched the crowd cheer as Howard Epson handed a giant green-and-white key to Pastor Anderson. There were twice as many cameras as usual, and that wasn't counting the four local television crews. The church lawn was a sea of green T-shirts and white baseball hats. Janet imagined she was one of the only people in town not standing on the church lawn. Half the businesses shut down for the day, and Howard even got in a fight with the school board over whether or not to let classes out early.

She couldn't bring herself to go, even though she ought to have been there—she was, after all, a vendor and a participant. It had cut too close, however, become too personal, to allow her to stand among the happy crowd and cheer. It felt safer to watch from a distance.

Camera crews followed Drew and the others around to the west side of the church, and Janet was certain she could hear the “oohs” and “aahs” as they unveiled God's watering can and the adorable preschool garden. The garden she couldn't go back to just yet.

The next day, every time a plane flew overhead, Janet looked up, wondering if Drew and the rest of the team were on their way to the legendary meeting Annie had told her about. Big things were about to happen for them. She really did wish them well. They were mostly good people doing good things.
Missionnovation
had just become about too many things for her, and she needed distance. From them. From him. The preschool was open and running now, and things would be edging their way back to normal over the next week.

Janet hadn't even realized she'd been standing staring at the extra cans of Preservation Task Force Approved Church Door Blue paint until Vern came up and stood beside her. For a moment he just let out a deep breath and thrust his hands deeper into his overalls pockets. Then he looked at her and said, “You don't think it's perfect, do you? And that makes you mad.”

“Well, yes.” It was that, but it was more than that—only she wasn't ready to talk about the rest of it. She put down the can. “They let us down, Vern. They came in here all promises and big talk and…they let us down.”

Vern looked around the empty store. “Let who down? I don't see anyone else looking unhappy. Middleburg got a new preschool just like they promised. Pastor Anderson tells me he got a whole bunch of stuff he didn't need even before the storm. Prayers got answered.”

“They installed the roof and cistern wrong. There was a right way to do it and they took shortcuts instead.”

“That's just how
you
choose to see it. Jannybean, you got this perfect world in your head. Some idea of how the world should be, and it burns you up when the world don't agree. I ain't never met a perfect person. Or a perfect plan, a perfect
house, a perfect marriage or a perfect church. If life and people were perfect, Jesus'd be out of a job, don't you think?”

“He let me down, Vern. He was supposed to be the real deal, this guy who cared about doing the right thing, and he took shortcuts.”

“I ain't so sure I share your opinion, but okay, what if he did? What if Drew Downing messed up on that tank? What if the roof leaks? Does that take away everything else—every good thing—he did?”

“It does to me.”

Vern heaved a sigh that broadcast his disappointment and walked back down the aisle.

 

“Mr. Missionnovation himself, Drew Downing!” The announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers in the hotel banquet room. The lights came up as a huge screen that had just played segments of half a dozen
Missionnovation
programs retracted into the ceiling. Drew walked over to the HomeBase CEO and shook his hand.

“This is the beginning of a great partnership,” the man said into the podium microphone. “A whole host of products and promotions lay ahead as HomeBase takes the warmth and values of
Missionnovation
to prime-time network television.”

True to their word, HomeBase hadn't edited any of the faith out of the
Missionnovation
segments they aired to their shareholders. Granted, Drew didn't much care for America's families of faith being referred to as a “rich, untapped market segment,” but if it got the word out undiluted and expanded, he didn't see how he could complain. Eyes lit up around the room as Drew talked about his vision for an
expanded
Missionnovation.
People were getting it. They were buying into the show's concept. A few people even told him afterward that they'd started shopping at HomeBase because of its willingness to put its weight behind a faith-based show like
Missionnovation.
Drew had the overwhelming sensation that God had big plans for
Missionnovation,
and it was his job to hold on tight and take the wild ride.

Charlie was positively beaming when they met up at the end of the session. “Can you believe it? Did you ever imagine we'd be here? Doing this? On this scale?” Charlie slapped Drew on the back and shook his hand. “After tomorrow, the whole country will know what
Missionnovation
is and what it stands for.”

“I can't wait for the rest of the team to get here. I want them to see this.”

“They get in at ten o'clock tonight. I had my assistant check in with Kevin earlier, and everything is wrapping up nicely in Kentucky.” Charlie guided Drew through the sea of new fans toward the table where a lot of important looking people sat starting in on their dessert. With a sad twinge, Drew noted that the plates were filled with very ordinary looking chocolate sheet cake—a serious let-down from the delicious originality of Milk and Cookies Pie and Muffinnovations. “The editor says the tapes look great,” Charlie continued. “We should have a rough edit of the final episode within a few weeks. I think we'll even have a thirty-second segment talking about the new expanded season and the HomeBase sponsorship. Gentlemen, we're one our way to an amazing success.”

The rest of the day was a blur of handshakes, photographs, planning meetings and congratulations. He was introduced to loads of people, but he didn't really meet any
of them. They were a sea of nameless faces, not unique individuals. When he finally sank onto his hotel bed at eleven o'clock that night, Drew thought he couldn't keep his eyes open one minute longer. Which was funny, because jam-packed days usually left Drew feeling charged-up, not wiped out. He was glad of the chance to get his first full night's sleep in weeks.

Glad, that is, until a knock came on his door. Drew dragged himself off the bed and stumbled wearily to the peephole. Kevin stood on the other side of the door, flanked by his green-and-white crutches.

Drew pulled the door open. “You made it. Everybody get settled in okay?”

“Best flight ever. I love it that you get to board first if you're on crutches.” Kevin grinned. “They put me in first class because my leg wouldn't bend enough to fit in coach. Outstanding.”

Drew laughed. “I'm glad. Who knows, they may fly us first class from here on in when we're not on our spiffy new busses.”

“Whatever. I'm beat. I'm gonna sink like a stone onto that big fluffy bed and wake up a new man.” His voice took on a teasing tone as he fumbled to pull an envelope from his back pocket. “First, though, I've got to deliver a little message someone left for you.” To Drew's surprise, Kevin waved a Bishop Hardware envelope in the air. “Seems like someone finally came around. That's my Drew. Wins 'em over every time.” Kevin pointed at Drew with a smirk. “I gotta admit, I wasn't sure you were going to pull this one off.”

Drew took the envelope, speechless. He was glad Kevin gathered his crutches and hobbled off down the hall without
waiting for him to open the message from Janet. He suspected it was of a private nature, anyway.
Thanks, God. I didn't want it to end the way it did.

Drew sank slowly down onto a chair and slid his finger under the envelope seal. Nothing fancy, just plain white paper with no-nonsense lettering in the corner. No spiffy colors or catchy logos—pure Janet Bishop practicality.

His heart sank as the contents of the envelope fluttered out onto the floor.

A single piece of paper. A check.

She'd filled out the check he gave her on his first day. The blank check he'd given her to fund repairs if she ever felt
Missionnovation
hadn't lived up to its promise of quality work.

She'd filled it out for the amount of the original roofing supplies and returned it to him, uncashed.

I
t can't be helped. I did everything I could do, didn't I, Lord? We did a fine job for Middleburg. We went beyond what they requested. It's not my fault, is it, Lord?
Drew fingered his way through the Gospel of Matthew, his favorite, looking for something to speak to his heavy spirit. He read through the parable of the seeds. Janet was “scorched earth” right now, any seed that was sown wouldn't take root. He'd always known he couldn't bring everyone around, but he couldn't get past his frustration over Janet. Every soul mattered to him, but Janet was different. And it wasn't even just about faith. He couldn't shake the notion he'd let her down professionally. Personally.

Feeling no reassurance, Drew read further, looking for something to allow him to move on. He read over the parable of the lost sheep, sympathizing with the man Jesus said would leave his ninety-nine sheep to go find the one lost lamb. But he couldn't find Janet—that was Jesus's job.
Go after her, Lord,
he prayed.
Be relentless. Don't let her go.

Janet made it crystal clear she felt as if she'd been
wronged. He didn't agree with her, but he knew that logic didn't necessarily explain how someone
felt.
So Drew wandered into Luke's gospel, looking for what Jesus did with people who'd been wronged. When he hit upon the Pharisee asking Jesus “Who is my neighbor?” in Chapter ten, he halted. Wasn't he, in fact, asking himself the same thing? If Janet's wounds were his responsibility to heal? He sat up in bed and read the parable of the Good Samaritan further.

No one
had
to help the man who'd been robbed. They were visitors—bystanders who happened upon the victim. And compassion did require you to help someone like that. While no one else had, the Good Samaritan did a whole lot of good on behalf of the victimized man in the story.

But he didn't stop there. He went way beyond the expected. Beyond what he
ought
to do into all he knew he
could
do. Beyond just his obligation and into the depth of his capacity.

Drew stilled, knowing he'd hit upon the passage God intended him to find. He was wide awake, even at three in the morning.

Missionnovation
had done its job. They'd given Middleburg burg more than it asked for. Sowed all kinds of seed in that quaint little town. Pastor Anderson told him several stories of people whose faith had been strengthened by the work of
Missionnovation.
They'd not only repaired the preschool, they'd made dozens of improvements on the church itself. Howard Epson was so proud, Drew thought he'd explode before the day was over. They'd filmed a spectacular final episode, wrapping up one season only to vault into a new, expanded format. No one could fault him for the work he did. But deep inside, Drew knew he held the capacity to do more for one particular woman. Even if it meant going to extraordinary lengths.

It was no accident he'd given Janet that blank check. God had placed Janet in his life, and he in Janet's. Drew's constant ache for her was God telling him to make Janet's healing his problem, because perhaps God chose him to be the solution. Hadn't Dinah Hopkins told him as much? Yes, Janet's “repair” was something only God could accomplish, but Drew knew he was supposed to play a part in her healing. A big part. Because God had planted a caring for her in his heart that was stronger than he could ever hope to ignore.

And, truth be told, he was kidding himself to think that all of his unrest had solely been about Janet. In reality, Janet's situation had only been the barometer for lots of things Drew had been sweeping under his own personal rug.
Missionnovation
was a different enterprise than when he started. He thought he'd wanted expansion, visibility, all the qualities of “bigger and better,” but it wasn't what he really wanted.

He wanted what
Missionnovation
used to be. Middleburg was feeling too much like the last of its kind—like something he wasn't ready to let go. He thought it was simply projects
like
Middleburg, the face-to-face, get-to-know-you projects, but Drew realized it was Middleburg, itself.
Missionnovation
was moving on, but Drew knew he no longer wanted to move with it. The show had grown beyond his dreams, beyond what made him happy.

That didn't make it bad, it just made it time to say goodbye.

Drew dialed Charlie's cell phone as early as he dared. “Can't wait for the big day, huh?” Charlie yawned into the phone.

“We have to talk, Charlie. Now.”

 

Charlie looked about as calm as one could expect under the circumstances—which wasn't calm at all. As a matter
of fact, it was the closest thing to panic Drew had ever seen on the man's face.

“Let me get this straight,” Charlie said, rubbing his hands down his face as they sat in the hotel coffee shop with the smog-tinted Los Angeles sun just dawning over his shoulder. “You're leaving
Missionnovation?
For a
girl?
”

“She's not a
girl,
” Drew sighed. “In my experience women don't take nicely to being called girls. And it's not just about Janet. She just sort of brought everything to a head, that's all.”

“I don't get it.” Charlie stared at him, genuinely stumped. “Now, of all times, when we're about to go big—now you leave?”

“I think that's just it, Charlie. I thought I wanted
Missionnovation
to ‘go big.' I understand all the reasons why it's a good thing. But for the first time since we started, I think I finally understand the difference between Drew Downing and Mr. Missionnovation. I want
Missionnovation
to go big. But
I
don't—all those trappings of a big show, none of that appeals to me. None of it feels right. My brain's been mud since we started this negotiation and I couldn't figure out why. It's because I've lost my bearings. I never wanted to be famous, I just wanted to help people fix stuff. Show them how the body of Christ helps each other out. And somehow, in a way I can't really explain yet, doing it on a big scale isn't what I'm supposed to be doing. It's not the crowds that jazz me, it's the one-on-one. Don't you get it? That's why I'm always fixated on the ‘hostile' even though the whole crowd is cheering.”

“Your timing is lousy.”

Drew managed a thin smile. “It's not my timing. Actually, I think I'm a little late on the uptake. I think God's
been shouting in my ear for weeks now and it took Janet Bishop to shake me up enough to hear Him. This is something I have to do.”

Charlie still looked forlorn.

“Look, I think you had the notion right—that it was time for my role in
Missionnovation
to change. You just didn't realize that
launching Missionnovation
was my thing. Tinkering with it until she was strong enough to fly on her own. Kevin and Annie and the rest of them, they're ready. I got them ready, and I've been so blessed by it. They'll be great. This isn't going to fall around your ankles. It's really going to take off because now you'll have the people God intends taking it from here.”

“You sure know how to test a guy's faith.” Charlie gulped his coffee—his fourth cup. “I'm not sure I can pull this off.”

“I am,” Drew replied, meaning every word of it. “You're the guy who makes things happen. And I know this is what's supposed to happen. I've known it since the minute I figured it out, and it feels right. Really right. You have to know I'm sure or I would never get you out of bed at this hideous hour.”

“It's dawn,” Charlie said, cringing. “I don't do dawn.”

“It's one of the most amazing times in Kentucky. You should see the mist, Charlie. It takes your breath away.”

“Man,” said Charlie, narrowing his eyes. “You do have it bad.”

Drew grinned. He did, didn't he?

“Start praying, Downing. And get everyone you know on their knees. It's gonna take God in all His might to pull today off.”

“Welcome to my world, Chuck. If God in all His might didn't show up every day, I'd have been sunk three years ago.”

 

Janet found her mom in her garage, putting away gardening supplies for the winter. As it had always been, the Bishop garage was tidy—swept, organized, with a place for everything and everything in its place. Her dad used to joke that even the garden hoses wouldn't dare kink or wind in the wrong direction when Bebe Bishop was in charge. Her mom pulled off a pair of work gloves and straightened when Janet came up the driveway. “Well hello, dear. Nice to have everything back to normal up at the shop?”

That was the question of the hour, wasn't it? Was it nice? And was everything back to normal?

No, and no.

No matter how she tried to deny it, Drew Downing had left things too quiet at the shop and too stormy in her soul.

“Got a minute? Can I talk to you about something?” Janet said as casually as she could. She tried to make it sound trivial, but moms have a radar about that sort of thing, and her mother dropped the gloves immediately and gestured toward the back door.

She poured two glasses of iced tea—Bebe drank iced tea year round, preferring cold drinks to hot for as long as Janet could remember—and sat down at the kitchen table. “What's on your mind?”

“How'd you marry Dad?” She could have picked a more subtle start, but couldn't think of one.

A smile washed over her mother's face. “Well, there was a minister, and he said the usual things, and we said the usual things, and we were married.”

Janet rolled her eyes. Couldn't her mother see she was trying to have a serious conversation? “I mean how'd you
decide
to marry Dad?”

Bebe sat back. “That's a mite more complicated. Then again, not really. I loved him, and you don't really decide something like that. It just sort of happens.” She stirred her tea. “But I did have to decide to marry him. And that wasn't quite as easy. I knew I could when I wanted a
life with him
more than I cared about the challenges of
living with him.
No one gets married without a few doubts.” She looked at Janet. “Why the sudden questions?”

“Vern and I argued because I'm mad at Drew Downing. You know I think
Missionnovation
made mistakes over at MCC. Vern told me to hush up and be grateful, to accept an imperfect world with imperfect people.” Janet ran her finger around the top of her iced tea glass, not feeling very thirsty. “He said something about how even Dad was imperfect, and to ask you about it.”

“He and your dad were in the middle of a big fight when your father died. Actually, he and your dad fought a lot.”

Dad and Vern? Fighting? They somehow managed to keep her from seeing it. “What could those two fight about?”

“Oh, you'd be surprised. Your dad had a stubborn streak a mile wide. But you wouldn't know anything about bein' stubborn, or insisting on your own way, now would you?”

Janet let that go without a reply. She knew perfectly well where her stubborn steak came from.

“I'm not saying your dad wasn't a wonderful man—he was.” Her mother's eyes strayed to the dark blue Bishop Hardware jacket hung on a peg by the back door. “But Vern is right, and no one's perfect. You know your dad had one way of doing things—his way. He had blinders on as to anyone else's ideas, no matter how fine they might be.” Janet recalled the dozens of arguments she'd had with her dad over how to run the store. “Before you took over, Vern had
a front row seat to most of it. People make mistakes when they won't take advantage of good advice and only see their own way on things.”

Janet toyed with the ice cubes in her glass. “I know Dad could be a tough boss. I still don't see what that's got to do with
Missionnovation.
”

“Well, like I said, I did think about your dad's faults before I said yes to his proposal. I had to decide if I liked the good things of a life with him more than I wanted to get my own way most of the time. I loved your dad to pieces, but he was a bit of a schemer, and that didn't always sit well with me. I had to take the good with the bad.”

“Dad? Scheming?”

Bebe chuckled. “Well, I suppose it looked more like planning to you. You two are so alike in lots of ways. But Dad had been a schemer when he was younger. That's why he was so angry about what happened with Tony. Saw his former self in that boy. And it made him furious.” She looked at Janet tenderly. “It broke his heart to see what happened to you. I always hoped, for your sake, that with some mercy Tony would wise up and turn his life around. 'Course, I was wrong. I never thought you'd be so hurt by all of it for so long.” She stared down at her hands. “I would've come down like the wrath of God on that boy if I'd known he was gonna destroy your faith. I just kept thinking of Jacob, how scheming he was, but how God turned him around to be such a man of faith.” She looked up at Janet. “I wanted Tony to be like your dad, but he wasn't, and that's my mistake.”