The Color of Hope - By Kim Tate Page 0,12
thinks he’s looking out for the best interests of Calvary.” She looked around. “I’m glad I’m here. I didn’t realize the service had been getting resistance on all sides, or all the praying you guys have been doing. I feel like I’ve been in a fog.”
“You were, in a way,” Janelle said. “You were engaged and thought you had a vision for your life. It takes awhile to see your way clearly to what’s next after a sudden change.”
“And you would know,” Charley said. “You dealt with a lot worse, with your husband dying.”
“Well . . . let’s just say I understand,” Janelle said. “How are you doing now, with the breakup and all?”
“Fine as far as the breakup,” Charley said. “But still figuring out the ‘what’s next.’ I’ve been planning a move to Charlotte.”
“Sounded like I heard a but in there,” Stephanie said.
Charley sighed. “You did. I’m a P.E. teacher and left my job at the high school this spring. But just this morning Mr. Maxwell, my assistant principal, offered me the head volleyball coach position, which is what I wanted. At least it was before I decided to leave.”
“Mr. Maxwell . . . Marcus?” Stephanie asked. “He’s our cousin.”
Charley looked incredulous. “Okay, who aren’t you related to?”
“Why did you leave your job?” Janelle asked.
“After the breakup, I wanted to do something different. Something God-sized. Leaving town seemed like the logical first step.”
“That’s funny,” Stephanie said, “since I was feeling the same thing this spring and felt God leading me here to do something God-sized.”
Charley seemed to take that in. “That’s weird. Mr. Maxwell—Marcus”—she smiled—“basically said the same thing. Who would’ve thought God could be doing something here in Hope Springs?”
Janelle smiled. “I’ve actually been thinking about that very thing for a while—what God might be doing here. Seemed to start when Todd and Travis moved back and took over at Calvary and New Jerusalem. Next thing you know, a combined service is up and running. Then I relocate here, then Marcus, now Stephanie.” She paused, taking it in. “Something weird is going on.”
“Hmph.” Stephanie glanced around the room. “All I know is, I’m looking at all these women in their thirties—Janelle, Becca, Sara Ann, Trina.” She turned back to Charley. “How is it fair for God to move you out of town? I need another twentysomething around here. Plus, we rock the same music and the same shirt? Nope, you can’t go.”
Charley laughed. “This is so crazy. I literally have no idea what God wants me to do.”
“Yeah, well, join the club,” Stephanie said. “I’m here, but I don’t know what He wants me to do here. I guess that makes the two of us doubly Soul Sisters or something.”
“Which is kind of cool,” Charley said. “Being clueless together.”
Stephanie laughed with her. “Well, before God whisks you away, we should hang out. Our family reunion starts tomorrow night with a fish fry. You should come over.” She snapped her finger. “You’d be helping me fulfill the hospitality charge too.”
“Great idea,” Janelle said. She put an arm around Charley. “And here’s the deal. I’m inviting you to be on my team, Team Estelle—”
“Oh no you don’t.” Stephanie moved Janelle out of the way. “You would actually be more suited to Team Bruce.”
Charley smiled. “What’s the team thing?”
“The teams are named after our parents,” Janelle said, “but we’re just having fun with you. Not about coming, though—we’d love to have you.”
Charley didn’t hesitate. “That’s actually something I’m not clueless about. I’d love to hang out with you all.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Friday, July 30
Samara Johnston let herself into the house at five thirty, wondering if her mom would be home anytime soon. She’d spent much of her day at the school gym, thankful for the extra instruction Coach Willoughby had given her, even after the volleyball clinic had officially ended. Sam would miss that part—the coach’s care and attention—but she wouldn’t miss the other girls making fun behind her back. It was easier to stay to herself than to hang on the periphery, seemingly invisible. Not that it was anything new. Her sophomore year would start in a little over a week. There’d be more of the same.
Felt good in a way just to admit it. No false hopes. No rosy imaginings. In years past she’d told herself she’d find a good friend. She’d even pushed herself to make a friend, to speak in the halls, sit with different girls at lunch. But somehow, surrounded by laughter and camaraderie, she only felt isolated