“Do you have any mean clients?” Rebecca asked as she tossed the last box into the bin. “I’m starting to feel like this is the Twilight Zone, where everyone’s nice and makes you apple pies just because.”
Josh laughed. “You shoulda seen the battle Mrs. Crenshaw and Mrs. Stillerman had over who made me the best pie. Almost came to blows over it.”
“Really?”
He stuck out his tongue. “Just messin’ with you.”
“Watch it, JJ. I bet I’m still stronger than you are. Remember the time I knocked you flat on your back?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, man, I remember that! Sheesh, Becks, that was low. There I was, knocked out on the banks of the Wahca by my first crush.” He shook his head in mock defeat.
“Your first … crush?” She cocked her head at him.
His face pinked in the bright streetlights. “I figured you knew. I mean, come on—the prettiest girl I’d laid eyes on and she liked to fish? How could I not crush on you?”
A crush? She thought back to those days, the kids they’d beenall those years ago—him all teasing goofiness, her all awkward and aloof, bonding over cupcakes and apples on the riverbank.
“You never said.” She watched him in the streetlight, marveled again at how the chubby kid with pimples and freckles and braces had turned into such a good-looking man and great dad. Sarah and Marisol would have deemed him a “hottie” for sure. She bit her lip, tried to laugh. “I never knew. Wow, we were so young.”
“Yeah, we were.”
“So much has happened since then.”
Rebecca wanted to say more to fill the silence, but the right words wouldn’t formulate in her head, let alone leave her lips. And then the door to the church banged open and there were Marla and Rev. Marla was brandishing Rebecca’s purse and smiling broadly.
“Time to lock up! Y’all have anything else inside?” she asked. Rev had his hand on her elbow, helped his wife gently down the back steps into the alley.
“Nope, that’s it.” Rebecca took the purse, fished inside for her car keys.
“Hey, there, Jamison. Been a long time!” Rev shook hands with Josh, and they did that one-armed man-hug. “I almost called you the other day to help me with a small job at the parsonage, but I managed to rig it.”
Marla good-naturedly swatted her husband. “‘Rig’ is generous,” she said to Josh. “I think we could use your help after all.”
“You asked the right man.” Josh smiled, and Rebecca watched them talk shop about dimensions and tools and budget restrictions, admiring how he heard them out in full, then offered suggestions. They exchanged numbers, and Josh promised to call on Monday.
They all walked to the front, and Josh and Rebecca watched Rev and Marla hop into their separate cars.
She wanted to ask again about Devon, give Marla her numberand ask her to call if she heard anything. But she just stayed quiet. You’re overreacting, Rebecca.
“Join us Sunday if you can,” Rev called, and they motored off into the night.
Rebecca jangled her keys, edging toward her car.
“Well, it’s getting late.”
Josh wiggled his eyebrows comically. “This is what they call ‘late’ in the city?”
She giggled, and he looked at the sky.
“The night is young.” He held out an arm, nodded for her to join. “Come. Take a walk with me.”
She bit her lip, then realized that was exactly what she wanted to do—go for a walk with her old friend and let everything go. Just for a little while.
“Sounds like fun,” she said, linking her arm in his.
They walked through the town toward the big gazebo at the center, and Josh told her all about the big community festivals they held there once the weather turned cooler—the back-to-school bash, the fall pumpkin fest, the turkey giveaway, the Christmas walk.
“They’d still hold the St. Patty’s Day Party if Les Newman hadn’t gotten everyone sick with food poisoning from the barbecue that one year. Whew, that was one rough weekend.”
