of the pew. He exited the sanctuary and hurried to the door of the men’s room. The men’s restroom was small, with only a single toilet and a wall-mounted sink, so if Cullen was in there, the door would be locked. Jase gripped the doorknob and twisted. It opened.
Swallowing a groan, he peeked inside. Sure enough. No Cullen. He paused for a moment, listening to Brother Kraft’s warm yet authoritative voice carry from the other side of the wall. Then he heard laughter, not from the sanctuary but from the foyer. He hurried around the corner and down the short hallway toward the sound. Aggravation immediately rose when he spotted Cullen with the usher who’d been assigned hall duty for the morning.
He marched directly to Cullen, who leaned against the welcome center counter with his back to Jase. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and turned him around. “What are you doing?”
Surprise widened Cullen’s eyes. He jammed his thumb in the deacon’s direction. “Talking with Brother Phil. What’re you doing out here? Is the sermon over?”
“No, the sermon isn’t over, and I’m out here because you didn’t come back. I was afraid you might be sick in the bathroom, given your medical condition.” Jase tempered his tone, hiding his annoyance with the kid. “Why didn’t you come back in?”
Cullen shrugged, innocence blooming on his pimpled face. “You told us in Sunday school how it’s disruptive for us to leave and come back. I’d already disrupted by leaving. I didn’t want to disrupt again. So I stayed out here with Brother Phil.” A smirk twitched on his lips. “I guess we could go back in, but it’d probably cause another disruption since two make a bigger noise than one.”
Jase looked at Brother Phil, who was watching Jase as if measuring his reaction. He took a deep breath and gave Cullen a firm look. “Disruptive or not, we’re going back in. And we are going to honor the no-leaving-the-sanctuary-during-service rule from now on.”
“But my condition,” Cullen whispered, panic rasping his voice. “What if I can’t hold it? You want me to have an accident right there in the pew?”
“I’ll talk to your mom about how best to deal with your condition, but—”
Cullen shot for the hallway. “Never mind, bro. Let’s go.”
Jase caught up and put his arm across the boy’s shoulders. Cullen shrugged loose and stepped out of Jase’s reach. His stomach in knots, Jase reached the door first. Singing carried from inside—a hymn, “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today.” The congregation always stood to sing, so his and Cullen’s entrance wouldn’t be as noticeable during the hymn. He opened the door and waved Cullen through, then followed.
Back in their pews, he sensed Cullen’s glare on the back of his head as he raised his voice in song, but he refused to let it cow him from joining his new fellowship of believers in singing his joy that Jesus overcame the grave.
Brother Kraft closed the service with prayer, and the pianist played the hymn again while the congregation filed out. Jase scanned the room for Cullen’s mother. He doubted the boy had a medical issue preventing him from sitting for an hour. After all, he’d gone the whole hour and a half during youth group on Wednesday without needing a bathroom break. But he’d get confirmation rather than operate on assumptions. He spotted her near the main doors, Cullen fidgeting beside her, and headed in their direction. But by the time he worked his way to the opposite end of the sanctuary, she and Cullen were gone.
Brother Kraft caught his eye and motioned for Jase to join him, so he crossed to the minister. He shook hands with people who filed out, returning their “Christ is risen” with “He is risen indeed,” just as he’d done at the church in San Antonio. The traditional Easter greeting brought back pleasant memories of his years at Grace Chapel. Without warning, a wave of loneliness washed over him. He missed Brother Tony and Sister Eileen, his foster parents, and many others from the church who’d made him feel welcome and loved. Maybe he’d give Brother Tony a call in the morning. He didn’t want to bother his old mentor on Easter Sunday, but tomorrow would work. It’d be good to hear his voice.
He’d make another call tomorrow, too. To Cullen’s mother. He wanted to set up a private meeting with her and Cullen. He’d get to the bottom of this