The Hearts We Mend (7 page)

“Of course it's all right.” Evie gave Diva's leash a little tug to distract her from the calico cat sunning itself on the neighbor's sidewalk. “What time will you be here? I can have supper ready.”

“Raine is . . . she's kind of anxious to settle in and try out the new kitchen, Mom.”

“Of course she is.” Evie's image of an evening catching up with her son and new daughter-in-law dissolved. She made a mental note to leave a bouquet of fresh flowers on their table as a housewarming gift instead. “We can make it another time.”

“Sounds good . . . I should probably go.” The sudden lilt in Cody's voice told Evie that Raine was nearby.

“I'll see you on Saturday.”

“Love you, Mom.”

Evie's eyes began to burn. “Love you too.” She glanced at the time before slipping the phone into her pocket. “Come on, Diva, step it up a little or Belinda will get there before I do.”

As it turned out, everyone—including Belinda—was already there, passing around a carafe of coffee, when Evie walked into the conference room.

“We want to hear all about the wedding!” Sonya announced.

Belinda, who'd worked with Evie the longest, winked as she slid a cup of coffee in front of an empty chair. “We'll consider it old business.”

How could Evie argue with that?

Out of respect for everyone's busy schedules, she kept the meetings to one hour. Which meant they stuck to a three-part agenda. Old business, new business, and God's business. The last
one had been Evie's mother's idea—a humorous reminder to make sure that prayer requests brought before the group didn't turn into gossip.

The three women scooted their chairs closer together while Evie touched on the highlights and scrolled through the photos she'd taken with her tablet over the course of the day.

“Cody looks so grown up in a suit and tie,” Jill murmured. “I remember when he used to kick off his shoes and socks in Sunday school class and hide them under the beanbag chair because they—and this is a quote—‘made his head hurt.'”

And Evie had encouraged Cody to pursue a degree in business. “I believe the tie came off right after that picture was taken.”

Sonya fanned herself with a napkin. “I have to say, Dan sure looks handsome in a three-piece suit.”

Evie didn't miss the twinkle in the woman's eyes. She drew in a slow breath and exhaled a smile as she flipped to the next photo. A candid of Dan and Gin holding hands at the reception.

“I'm sure Ginevieve would agree with you.”

“Are they . . . are you . . .” Sonya started and stopped, as if she was afraid to fill in the blanks.

“Happy? Yes.” Evie did it for her. “Happy for them? Yes.”

Absolute silence followed the statement as everyone absorbed the news.

In the past Evie had simply shrugged off the teasing comments aimed at her and Dan. Friends and, Evie suspected, even some of Dan's family members had kept a close eye on them over the years, waiting for their friendship to develop into something more. And if she was completely honest, Evie knew that Danny had been waiting too.

There'd been times when loneliness had seeped into her bones like a cold spring rain, and her thoughts had drifted in that direction. She could come up with at least a dozen reasons why marrying
her childhood friend would be the logical thing to do, but she could never seem to get her heart to agree.

And then she would lie awake at night, in the double bed she'd shared with Max, wondering if she could even trust her heart anymore. Wondering if the only thing it was capable of was pumping blood through her veins.

“Raine's mother is a waitress at that diner on Radley Street, isn't she?” Jill's brows dipped together, an unconscious gesture Evie had discovered to be an accurate gauge of her disapproval.

“My Place.” Evie had a feeling it wasn't Gin's choice of a career, or even the diner, that Jill had a problem with. Some of the women who attended Hope Community didn't know what to do with Ginevieve Lightly. To be honest, Evie hadn't known either at first. But the thread that bound them together—their love for their children—had proven stronger than their differences. And now? Well, strange as it might seem, she
liked
Gin.

“A diner?” Belinda clapped her hands together. “I'm a little shorthanded on volunteers in the food tent on Saturday. Maybe I should call Ginevieve and ask if she'd be willing to help out. We could use someone who knows how to handle a hungry crowd.”

“That's a good idea.” And the perfect segue.
Thank you, Belinda.

Evie opened her folder and took out the agenda. “We should get started or it'll be lunchtime before we get through the new business. Sonya, will you open in prayer?”

“Of course.”

Evie was grateful for an opportunity to close her eyes for a few moments and redirect her focus.

God . . .

Evie stopped and let Sonya's words flow into the space as a familiar pressure began to build.

What was happening to her? That she couldn't express what was in her heart to the One who knew it the best?

A ragged sigh slipped out and mingled with the chorus of amens. Evie reached for her cup of coffee and hoped no one at the table had noticed.

“Let's skip the first two items and start with the church picnic.” She opened her binder, where she'd tucked the notes from the previous year.

The summer picnic was almost as popular as the Chilly Bowl the church held in April. And even though it technically wasn't a women's event, Pastor Keith had asked Evie's team several years ago if they would oversee the details.

“The youth group agreed to be in charge of the carnival games again.” Jill's pen tapped against her notebook. “Last year some of the booths were falling apart, but I'm not sure if Harvey got a chance to fix them before he left.”

“You could ask the new custodian,” Sonya suggested. “I think his name is Jake.”

“It's Jack,” Evie said. “And I left him a few notes.” Five, to be exact.

Had he found them yet? She'd caught a glimpse of Jack walking into Keith's office when she'd arrived at the church, so she'd taken advantage of the moment and slipped into the custodian's room.

The subtle changes had surprised her.

A breeze filtered through the open window, diluting the scent of pine cleaner. The rickety metal table Harvey had confiscated during last year's Bible Olympics looked different too. It no longer listed to one side, and the top had been replaced with a piece of wood that someone had stained a rich golden brown.

Why had Jack bothered to change it, knowing that Harvey was coming back in a few weeks? But then again, why had he taken the job at all . . .

“Evie?”

She snapped back to attention. “I'm sorry. What did you say?”

“We know you've been busy with the wedding, so we've got
everything covered for the picnic.” Belinda patted Evie's hand. “You can skip right to item seven.”

“You guys are amazing. You know that, right?”

Sonya pointed her lemon scone at Evie. “We learned from the best.”

“We also had our notes.” Belinda thumped her folder. “The picnic doesn't change much from year to year.”

“Do people want it to change?” The thought hadn't occurred to Evie until now.

“Of course not.” Jill entered the conversation. “That's what makes it a tradition.”

“Okay.” Evie flipped to the next page in her binder. “I guess that brings us to the garden walk at the end of July. Belinda, you're in charge of publicity. Why don't you start?”

“I e-mailed the local newspaper and two of the radio stations with the date and time. Melanie offered to design the flyers again, but I told her you wanted to wait until you heard from Victoria Kellan.”

“Oh no.” Sonya reached for another scone. “She isn't planning to back out, is she?”

“Victoria's daughter found out she has to have a C-section, and she wants to be there for the birth. Victoria promised to let me know as soon as they schedule a date.”

Jill frowned. “Victoria's rose garden is always the highlight of the tour. The women are going to be disappointed if it isn't included.”

“All the gardens on the tour are beautiful, but that's why I think we should wait until the end of next week before we print out the brochures.” Evie looked at Sonya. “What about the refreshments?”

“I talked to Marie when I had lunch at the bistro yesterday, and everything is set for the ice cream social afterward.”

“Great.” Evie checked those items off the list and then checked the time. “I think that covers everything until the next meeting.”

“Do you want me to help you clean up, Evie?” Belinda gave her
bag a quick shake to settle the contents before she stuffed her notebook inside.

“No, you go ahead. There are only a few coffee cups and plates to rinse out.”

“I won't insist—not when I've got a date with my adorable grandson.” Belinda's eyes twinkled. “In a few months, you'll know what I mean.”

A grandchild.

Evie was still trying to wrap her head around that.

She piled the dishes on a tray and carried them to the kitchen.

Jack's coffee mug was still in the dish drainer where Evie had left it. Bright yellow, with a crooked handle and a daisy etched into the front, it reminded Evie of the art projects Cody had made in elementary school.

It also reminded her of Saturday night.

She'd been trying really hard not to think about Saturday night.

Why Jack had said what he had about turning the other cheek.

Why he'd
touched
her cheek.

Evie picked up the coffee mug and turned it over in her hands, studying the name painted on the bottom in block letters that matched the yellow glaze.

LILY
.

Her fingers tightened on the handle as the air in the room seemed to change.

At least Jack hadn't caught her off guard this time. Evie sensed his presence before he even said a word.

She just couldn't decide which one was worse.

Jack thought Evie had looked beautiful on Saturday. But it suddenly occurred to him that it didn't matter what she was wearing. Sparkly
blue dress and high heels or a white button-down shirt tucked into a slim-fitting skirt that landed a conservative inch below her knees. Jack still had to reset his pulse.

“Hi.” And apparently, judging from the amount of grit in the word, his vocal cords too.

“Good morning. I . . . are you looking for this?” Evie held up the mug that Lily had made him for Christmas.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

“I met with Pastor Keith this morning, and he suggested that I talk to you if I have any questions about the picnic.”

“I left some notes for you.”

“I saw them.” Jack tried not to smile. “Which leads me to my first question. What does Harvey have against face-to-face communication?”

Evie blinked. “Nothing.”

“Really?” Jack let his skepticism show as he moved closer to the sink. “Then why do you communicate through Post-it notes? Because nowadays most people prefer e-mail, or they just text each other.”

“Harvey refuses to get a cell phone. He's kind of old school that way. The church hired me thirteen years ago, but Harvey has been here for twenty-five. My first week I ran all over the building whenever I had a question or wanted to tell him something. Harvey would see me coming and yell, ‘I won't remember. Leave me a note.' So I did.” Evie shrugged. “It turned out to be a great system.”

“Uh-huh. There's only one thing wrong with it.”

“What's that?”

“I'm not Harvey.”

“I . . . I realize that.”

Evie looked away and Jack wished he could rewind Saturday night. He still would have sacrificed his last cup of coffee but kept his hands to himself.

“I have another appointment in a few minutes.” She carefully set his coffee mug down on the counter. “Was there anything else you wanted to know?”

“As a matter of fact, there is.” Jack dipped his hand into his back pocket and extracted one of her now-wrinkled Post-it notes. “What the heck is bunting?”

Evie's eyes went wide, and then an honest-to-goodness smile lifted the corners of her lips. “It's not for the picnic. It's the red, white, and blue fabric we use to decorate the windows and the fence. I made a note of it because Harvey likes to put it up ahead of time, and this Saturday is the Fourth. The parade goes right past the church.”

“Fabric.”

“I can show you.”

That smile was already burning its way into Jack's memory as he followed Evie down the hall.

And she thought
he
was the dangerous one.

C
HAPTER
11