“That’s it, then?”
“Yes.” She glanced down at the appointment book to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “For now, anyway.” As the week progresses, and seeing that Christmas fell on a Sunday, it would be double duty. Christmas Eve on Saturday night and then another church service on Sunday morning.
“Great,” he said, when she’d finished. “It’s going to be a busy week.”
“Every week is busy.” Peter was often exhausted by the end of the day. More than once, Grace Ann had encouraged him to find a helpmate. She did what she could to make his life easier. She was his sister, though, and what Peter really needed was a wife.
Grace Ann had lost count of the number of single women from the church she felt would be perfect for her brother. Godly women. He’d thoughtfully listened to her suggestions and had dated a couple of those she considered worthy candidates. Nothing clicked. She was discouraged, and it’d been a month since she’d last offered up another name. After all this time, she had no idea what Peter sought in a wife, because clearly they didn’t share the same criteria.
One reason for her hesitation was Peter’s interest in why she herself hadn’t married. The majority of women at the age of twenty-eight in their community were married with children. A handful of the girls in her high school class had married the summer following graduation. After what had happened with Ken, she rarely dated. It was harder to meet single men in a small town. That, however, was only a small part of why she remained single. She wasn’t about to marry just because that was what women her age were expected to do.
At the first of the year, she’d made a list of everything she wanted in a husband. She’d made the mistake of showing it to Peter, thinking it would help him in his own quest to find a wife. Her brother had read over her criteria, laughed softly, and then smiled before commenting, “It looks to me like you want to marry Jesus.”
Grace Ann hadn’t been amused.
“What are you up to this week?” he asked, cutting into her thoughts.
“Me?” she asked, surprised by the question. “This isn’t an employee review, is it?” Peter would need to search far and wide to find anyone more dedicated to serving the church than she was.
“Not at all,” he assured her, leaning against the side of her desk, as he looked over her side of the appointment book.
“Well, other than overseeing the office and answering phones, there’s choir practice Wednesday evening.” Holding her finger on the page, she glanced up. “It would be good for you to make a showing. The choir has given a lot of extra hours to ensure that the Christmas Eve service is everything it should be.”
“I’ll be more than happy to see to that.” He nodded approvingly, as if adding an extra assignment to his schedule was exactly what he longed to hear. This was all so strange. Something was definitely up, but Peter was being tight-lipped.
“There’s a Ladies Missionary Society meeting on Thursday.” As president of the guild, Grace Ann had worked tirelessly to support those in the mission field. Both their parents were currently church planting in Costa Rica, dedicating themselves to the work of the Lord following retirement. Grace Ann was proud of her efforts, and the efforts of the other women of the church who’d given so much of themselves.
“I’ll be cleaning the church before the service, of course.” That was part of her regular duties. Peter often stepped in to lend a hand, which she appreciated.
“Put me down for that, will you?”
“Thank you, Peter.” She found cleaning the toilets in the men’s bathroom a challenge. The male youths were often off target when it came to their aim. Her brother had taken pity on her and had volunteered for the task, for which Grace Ann was most grateful.
“Make sure there’s easy access to all the songbooks,” he added.
“Of course.” Naturally, Peter wanted everything perfect for the Christmas Eve service. Several in the community showed up at church only for Christmas and then Easter, as if that was enough religion to save their souls. Sort of like getting fire insurance before they met the Grim Reaper.
“I’ll wipe down all the pews, too.” Everything would be as spotless as she could make it. Grace Ann took her job seriously.
Peter showed his appreciation with an encouraging smile. Her brother was a gentle soul, caring and kind, unlike some friends of his she could mention. One in particular. She deeply admired her brother’s Christian spirit, his willingness to dig in and give liberally of his time and himself. It wasn’t beyond him to help those in need. He never complained or questioned when others called on him. He had a generosity of spirit she admired and often wished she could be more like him.
“I’ll need you to type up a list of what’s required of me for each day,” Peter said, with what resembled a smug look.
This was the first time he’d ever asked her to do such a thing. They spoke each morning and reviewed the day’s commitments as soon as they arrived at the church office, precisely at eight.
“Do you plan on being gone from the office?” she asked, thinking that had to be the reason for his request.
“As a matter of fact, I will be.”
This was an unusual development, and one that came as a shock. “Where will you be?”
“Kettle Springs.” His eyes sparkled with delight.
“Kettle Springs,” Grace Ann repeated. “Why would you want to go to Kettle Springs?” Then it came to her. She should have guessed her brother’s less-than-desirable friend had cooked up some dodgy scheme that would involve Peter.
“This has to do with Hank, doesn’t it?”
“You could say that.”
Exactly as she thought.
Whatever it was appeared to please Peter. Her brother was all smiles. Knowing him as well as she did, she noticed he seemed to be holding back the need to laugh, as if this was some sort of comedy in the making.
“Peter. Tell me. What’s going on?” Whatever it was, Grace Ann was convinced she wasn’t going to like it.
“I’ll be tending Hank’s bar.”
“You’re doing what?” She already knew this was going to be trouble.
“I’m going to work as a bartender for the rest of the week. Of course, I’ll return in time for the service Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Don’t look so worried. This is going to work out beautifully.”
“You can’t do this, Peter. It’s impossible.” God help them if anyone from the church learned about this. “Hank put you up to this, didn’t he? Don’t bother to deny it. This is exactly the kind of thing that…that Neanderthal would do.”