The Color of Hope (12 page)

Several carloads made the less-than-two-mile drive from the Sanders’ household, pulling into the high school parking lot. Given the boycott, Stephanie wondered if they’d be among the only cars there. But with a full fifteen minutes to go before the start of service, the lot was teeming with vehicles.

“Wow.” She gazed out of her backseat window.

Lindell was beside her. “Looks like turnout hasn’t been affected.”

“Yes, it has.” Marcus was driving. “Never had to hunt down a parking spot like this. Somebody even took my reserved spot. This is way more people than usual.”

Charley nodded from the passenger seat. “I bet that article drew a lot of people.”

“Did you call home to see how your family was taking it?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah, right before we left,” Charley said. “Mom said Grandpa was livid about the way he was portrayed. Wonder what he’ll say when he hears all these people showed up.”

Marcus found a spot, and they all hopped out.

Lindell looked around. “What happened to the rest of our caravan?”

“They probably went to the other side of the lot,” Stephanie said. “We’ll catch them inside.”

Stephanie walked inside with her mind on church, but as they passed the administrative office and classrooms, she began to take notice of the actual school. Soon these spaces would be filled with students.
Lord, do I have a place here? Would I even know how to connect
with the kids?

Two ushers stood outside the gym doors, handing out programs.

Stephanie whispered to Charley, “I’m assuming that guy’s from Calvary? I’m a little surprised.”

“I’m surprised to see him too,” Charley whispered back. “He’s a longtime member.” She glanced around. “I see more Calvary members than I expected to, but a lot of the people you might think are from Calvary . . . I’ve never seen before.”

Charley and the Calvary usher greeted one another. He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

The four of them walked into the gym, where seats were filling rapidly. Stephanie looked for Cyd and Cedric, or Janelle and Kory, or even her other relatives who’d come, but couldn’t spot them.

“I see some empty seats over there,” Charley said.

They followed her to a row three-quarters of the way back. A teenage girl sat alone on the end, with a few seats between her and another couple in her row.

“Sam, hey, good morning!” Charley said. “Mind if we sit by you?”

“Good morning, Coach,” she said, moving her legs aside for them to pass. “Morning, Mr. Maxwell.”

“Good morning, Sam.” Marcus smiled. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without a volleyball in your hands.”

Sam smiled. “Yes, sir.”

Charley introduced Stephanie and Lindell to Sam, then took the seat beside her, followed by the rest.

Stephanie glanced around and saw Todd and Travis mingling. When her little nephew Chase took off across the gym, she spotted Cyd, who carted him back to a seat across the aisle. Janelle, Kory, and the kids were with them.

“So you attend New Jerusalem?” Charley was asking.

“No, ma’am,” Sam said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Charley said. “Have you been attending Calvary, and I’ve somehow missed you?”

“No.”

Stephanie didn’t want to be rude, but she looked at the girl again. Sam was fair-skinned; if Stephanie had to guess, she’d say mixed.

Sam played with her purse strap. “We don’t go to church. My mom says she doesn’t feel welcome at either one.” She glanced tentatively at Charley, then back to her purse. “I saw the article in the paper this morning, and since it was both churches together at school . . .” She shrugged. “I figured it’d be okay for me to come.”

Stephanie’s brows bunched. “Sam, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but why wouldn’t your mom feel welcome at either church?”

“I’m not really sure,” she said. “She’s never told me the whole story.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Stephanie said. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Thank you.” Sam stood. “Excuse me. I want to go to the restroom before it starts.”

Stephanie’s eyes followed after her, noting her plain, worn jeans—genuinely worn, not designer-worn—and fitted shirt—but not designer-fitted. Sam tugged it down self-consciously. Everything about her seemed self-conscious.

“I don’t know why,” Stephanie said, “but my heart goes out to that girl.”

“She’s a great kid, going into tenth grade,” Charley said. “Nice. Polite. Kind of stays to herself, though.”

“Marcus mentioned volleyball. She’s on the high school team?”

“No,” Charley said. “She came to my summer clinic, and she’s got a love for it, but I’m not sure if she’s ready to try out.”

Travis was walking by and stopped to shake hands.

“Are you as surprised as we were by the turnout?” Lindell asked.

Travis nodded. “Definitely. A lot of people read the morning paper and came from neighboring towns to support what we’re
doing. And I’m sure some are here out of curiosity. I believe God is at work even in that.”

Todd came to the microphone up front. “Good morning,” he said. “Could everyone take your seats, please? I want to say a few words before we get started.”

Sam slipped back in and took her seat.

When the gym quieted, Todd said, “I think most of us are aware of the article in this morning’s
Rocky Mount Sentinel
. Pastor Travis and I pondered whether to address it in the service. We decided to do so briefly.” He paused, looking out at the crowd. “We’ve known from the beginning that there would be controversy surrounding the joint worship service. Ultimately, we moved forward because Pastor Travis and I felt a deep conviction that this was what God was calling us to do.”

Something in Todd’s delivery struck Stephanie, as if he were feeling the weight of it all—the article, the boycott, and who knows how many personal messages he was getting. He wasn’t this sober when he gave the message at his own father’s funeral right before Christmas.

Todd continued, “This is our fourth combined service, and I have to admit that I thought by now we’d be on the upswing. If I’d imagined the type of news article I’d want to see, it would be one in which our churches served as a model of what was possible everywhere. I’m a little disappointed that instead, our state of affairs was likened to 1960s Jim Crow. I’m disappointed that there are more people here from outside of Hope Springs than there are those who live here.”

Lindell elbowed Stephanie. “Is it just me, or is this a different spin than Travis had?”

“But we’re so thankful to those who have supported this vision from the beginning,” Todd continued. “And we’re thankful to those from neighboring towns who have come out to support us.” The praise and worship team—a combined ensemble from both
churches—had come up beside him. “We’re about to begin our time of praise, and later in the service we’ll have a special time of prayer, asking God to give us His vision going forward.”

Stephanie elbowed Lindell back. “Is he saying the vision of unity and love might change? Seems like we just need to pray like that article suggested—that people have a heart to catch that vision.”

She glanced the other direction at Sam. “This might be more important than we realize.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

L
ibby was ready for the reunion to be over. She loved her family and was glad everything had turned out so well, but she was also glad there were only a few hours remaining. Only a few hours, and she’d be back in Raleigh, away from Travis.

She knew he’d be at Grandma Geri’s house today. The Sanders family wouldn’t let Travis stay away if he wanted to—and according to Marcus, he’d tried. He’d gone home after church and said he’d relax there the rest of the day. But Libby’s dad, of all people, called him. She heard him herself.

“Didn’t you say you were playing in the volleyball tournament for Team Wood? . . . Well, where you at, son? We need you!”

Travis was at the house and ready to play in the blink of an eye.

Team Wood. Whatever
.

A knock sounded on the bedroom door. Janelle poked her head in. “Can I come in?”

Libby propped herself up on an elbow. “It’s your room.”

Janelle closed the door and sat beside her on the bed. It was
their familiar routine during family events, though it was weird that Grandma Geri’s room was now Janelle’s.

Janelle eyed her. “At first I was coming to drag you outside for the volleyball tournament—my team is out, by the way; you
know
Charley is killin’ out there—but now I’m here for another reason. What in the world is Omar doing here?”

Libby sat up. “He’s out there?”

As she said it, her phone dinged, and she grabbed it from the nightstand. A text from Omar: Just got here.

Libby got up to go meet him.

“Um, excuse me.” Janelle looked at her from the bed. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s Omar doing here? You were adamant about not wanting him to come. ‘He’s getting too serious’ and all that.”

Libby shrugged. “I changed my mind.”

“Don’t try it, Lib. This is me. You know I already know. I just want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“You invited Omar to get your mind off of Travis.” She continued before Libby could comment. “And it’s not right. You shouldn’t play with Omar’s feelings like that.”

Libby waved away her concern. “I’m not playing with anybody’s feelings. Omar knows we’re just friends.” She paused. “But I have a question for you. Why didn’t you tell me about Travis and Trina?”

Janelle frowned slightly. “There was nothing to tell. Still isn’t, far as I can see.”

“Come on, Janelle, you heard them last night. They’ve been out together. You go to church with them, and she’s in your Soul Sisters group. You had no idea they were friends?”

“I knew they knew each other, of course,” Janelle said. “But no, I had no idea they’d been out or anything like that.” She eyed Libby. “And you care because . . . ?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s the same thing Travis asked me.”

Janelle scooted to the edge of the bed. “We haven’t had a moment alone to talk about that. What happened between the two of you?”

Libby sat back down with a sigh. “Nothing really. Just me making a fool of myself again, in tears, halfway admitting I have feelings for him as he let me know we could never be together.”

Janelle looked stunned. “You were crying?”

“I just said that.”

“You care about Travis more than I thought.” She put a hand on Libby’s shoulder. “Libby, I’m sorry. I wish we’d never invited Trina last night. It ruined the weekend for you.”

“It was best,” Libby said. “I’m glad I know. Wasn’t like me anyway to start fantasizing about a relationship with him—as if it could ever go anywhere.” She shook her head. “He and Trina can pursue their happily-ever-after.”

Janelle looked at her.

“What?”

“You’re the reason you and Travis aren’t together.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Unless I’m totally clueless, Travis has feelings for you too. But you’re the one who drifted from the Lord, stopped going to church, started living however you wanted to.”

Libby stared at the floor.

“If you’d stop running from commitment—and I mean commitment to God—maybe you and Travis could begin to build something.”

Libby’s phone dinged again. She looked at it. Where are you?

“That’s Omar,” Libby said. “I have to go.”

She headed for the door as another knock sounded, and then Stephanie poked her head in.

“Hey, they’re calling for everyone to come out,” Stephanie said. “Tournament’s over, and they’re awarding trophies.”

“I thought you were handling that, Libby,” Janelle said.

“I told my dad I wasn’t up to it. He said he’d do it.”

The three of them went out the back door, along with others who’d been inside escaping the heat. During the volleyball tournament, barbecue ribs and chicken were cooking on the grill. The inviting aroma hit them the moment they stepped outside. Once the winners were awarded their trophies, they’d all feast.

The backyard was crowded, as it had been Friday night. Libby snaked her way through, looking for Omar, and ran into Travis instead.

He touched her arm as she passed. “You weren’t going to speak?”

She barely looked at him. “Didn’t see the point.”

“So all the progress we made becoming friends again, we’ll just take twenty steps back?”

“However many steps it takes,” Libby said.

“Oh, there you are.”

Libby cringed inside when she heard Omar’s voice. All these people, and she’s caught between
these
two?

She turned and smiled. “Hey, glad you could make it.”

Omar hugged her. “All I needed was an invitation.” He spoke in her ear. “You know I wanted to be with you all weekend.”

Libby took a step back. “You remember Travis, right?”

“Of course.” Omar extended his hand. “Good to see you again, Pastor.”