Chapter 30
Tate
Thanksgiving has comeand gone, now it’s full speed towards Christmas.Layering is the key to the cooler months in Louisiana.Morning starts brisk but as the day progresses so does the heat.Lucky for me, accessorizing is my middle name.
Today I’ve got on a striped fuchsia-and-red baggy sweater over high-waisted pink bell-bottom jeans.To complete the look, I add my full-length maroon trench coat and a lime-green beret for a pop of fun.
My boots wobble a bit as I step from the car onto the gravel-lined path leading up to New Hope Church.The A-frame style building in the distance is a welcome sight, Christmas lights draped across trees and lining the building.A life-sized rendering of the nativity scene is at the center of the courtyard—complete with lighting and hay—and is motion-censored to play “The First Noel” whenever anyone walks by.The familiarity of everything is like my favorite pair of jeans, easy to put on and always feels good.
I changed my number the day after I got home, but unfortunately, I forgot about my social media handle.Images of Levi and Gabriella at some swanky restaurant eating, laughing, and kissing have been messaged to me from people all over the world.How could he do that?and Isn’t Gabriella your friend?Or the very popular hashtag #TeamTate.I have asked myself those very same questions...how could he do that?And Gabriella is my friend, right?In Levi’s defense, he texted and called, but nothing from Gabriella.A familiar sting hits the back of my eyes and I breathe against it.Not here, not now.I’m scheduled to meet Pastor Paul at eleven o’clock to discuss picking up where I left off.Marcie filled my spot when I left, so hopefully there is still a place for me.
I look down at my phone and it’s ten forty-five.He usually books himself back-to-back on Tuesdays since he takes Mondays off.I stroll past the little on-site coffee house, making my way towards the youth room.The door is held open with a chair, and at a distance I can see people walking back and forth across the room.I lean against the doorway, excited to be back and to see so many familiar faces, but when I look more closely, I’m taken aback.The youth room is gone.No beanbags or couch.The multicolored rug, everything...is gone.Whitewashed.
“Excuse me.”I gently touch the arm of a man as he passes.“What happened to the youth room?”
He smiles, and although I don’t know him, it puts me at ease.“They moved it to the center auditorium.We’re expanding the children’s wing.”
“Thank you.”I watch him for a minute before turning back towards the main church.I knew there was talk about growing the children’s ministry, I just didn’t anticipate that meant the youth space was shrinking.I guess not everything stayed the same.
Pastor Paul is waiting at the entrance for me, his smile a mile long.
“Hey there, superstar!”
The heat in my cheeks tells me I’m blushing.“I don’t know if I would say that...”I say, looking at my shoes before glancing back up at him.Something warm crosses his expression.
“I would.Let’s talk in my office.”He extends a hand between us, ushering me ahead.Once inside his office, I take a seat at the chair opposite his.The pictures on his desk are a perfect representation of him.His wife and kids.His two American bulldogs.A trip to Israel with the church, and another from when they went to Uganda.
He pushes up his glasses before folding his hands in his lap.
“Tate, as you know, Marcie stepped in for you while you were in California, and she’s been doing a great job.”
I’m nodding, not liking the direction this is going.“If I may just say, I in no way want my return to be seen as forcing Marcie out, or anyone else for that matter, but I just had hoped that there was a space for me, in any capacity, at New Hope.”
The longer he doesn’t say anything the more I feel my insides unravel.Living with my parents, I have no real expenses, but I need purpose, and this is it.I’m sure of it.I can’t imagine doing anything else.
“Listen, Tate.”He runs his hand across his unshaven cheek.“The bottom line is...I cannot in good conscience give you a job here that clearly neglects your spiritual gift.I, as well as anyone who watched you on stage, know that you were made to catch big game.”
“I’m sorry...what?Big game?”I blink at him in utter confusion.
“You will reach more people from a bigger stage.American Icon is a great show that has turned many people into stars, but it’s not the only road.I happen to know of a certain Christian record label holding auditions up in Nashville for a backup vocalist for Lasting Crowns.”
My hands fly to the top of his desk before my brain can stop them.I know my eyes have to be taking up at least half of my face, but I just can’t believe it.“That’s my all-time favorite band!Are you serious?You’re not serious, right?Is someone going to jump out and yell ‘joke’s on you,’ because if you’re not—”
