He couldn't stop his mind from wondering where she had gone and what her issue could possibly be, but he was jolted out of his thoughts as the pastor finished the service and then reminded everyone of the town business meeting at the town community center that afternoon.
It wasn't necessarily church business, but the church and the town were so intertwined, and the people who ran the town were also heavily involved in the church.
At least it gave him something to do this afternoon. Since his siblings had left, he had imagined himself finally relieved of his duties and enjoying the time alone. But he found instead that Sunday afternoons, especially, were long and seemed to drag on forever. His silent phone, with no texts or calls from his siblings, reminded him that he was no longer a necessary part of their lives, and while he knew it was a natural thing, he was a little sad. It made him sad to think of all the years and time that he'd spent, and now, he was alone. By choice, he supposed, since trying to date while running the business and giving private lessons as well as raising his siblings was just too hard.
He forced the gloomy thoughts aside and played something perky and relevant to the sermon for the postlude as congregants filed out. Playing the piano always made him feel better, and just because he was enjoying himself, he played a second song as the last of the people lingered, chatting and socializing.
Still, as he finished up and carefully closed the piano, gathering up his music, he couldn't help but think about Grace. What had been wrong with her?
Chapter 8
"You'll have to try some of this, it's delicious." Roland McBride held up a spoonful of what looked like a fajita soup. "I've gotta get the recipe for this." He mumbled as he nodded and then walked away.
Noah grinned. It was a little hard to imagine Roland cooking. But he knew the man did. He'd seen his dishes at church potluck suppers and different community events over the years.
Roland had been a bit of the black sheep of the McBride family, but he'd settled down in the last few years, and no small part of that was because of his wife, Nellie.
Noah glanced between the two of them as Roland insisted his wife try some of his soup, holding up his spoon and waiting for her to open her mouth.
She looked long-suffering as she did so, and then her eyes opened wide, and apparently she liked it.
Roland became animated, and the two of them turned together and walked toward the refreshment table.
Noah grinned and then looked down at his own plate, devoid of any soup. Maybe he should've tried some.
He supposed if he went back up, he would. But he'd been keeping an eye out for Grace. He kind of hoped she'd show up.
Everyone who attended had brought a little something to eat, which Noah appreciated. Now that he was on his own, regular meals were almost a thing of the past. What was the point in cooking for just one?
He pressed his lips together and tried not to go down that rabbit hole. He'd get used to it. Plenty of people lived by themselves and were completely content. And he'd done it for years almost, since his youngest sibling had gone to college and had only been home on weekends. Still, while they were in college, he still felt responsible and had regular phone conversations with them over friends and grades and work. Not like now, where his job was basically over.
He chatted with a few of the townspeople who walked up to him before it was time to call the meeting to order.
He always ran the meetings, or at least got them started. Today he didn't have a whole lot to do, because the committees would be giving their reports.
Just as he was walking up to the podium, his phone dinged.
He glanced at Dr. Terry Landis, looking tired but exceptionally happy as she snuggled her newborn baby, with her husband Judd's arm around them.
They were talking to Marjorie McBride, who sat in a chair with a blanket over her lap. She looked thin and frail and much different than she had even last year. Whatever health issues she was fighting, she apparently had not overcome them.
He'd been praying for her on a daily basis, both morning and evening. She was such a pillar of the community, he couldn't imagine life in Mistletoe Meadows without her.
He was a little distracted, thinking about Marjorie, as he glanced at his phone, and then, he had to slow down and read again to fully understand what was going on.
His stomach dropped, and dread felt like a lead vest sitting on his shoulders.
How was he going to tell the town this?
"We gonna get started?" someone asked, but Noah barely glanced at them and couldn't say who it was. He needed to think. There had to be a way to figure this out.
But he didn't have time. He needed to get the meeting started, and he would have to present this to the community without a solution of his own. This wasn't the kind of news that could wait.
As he looked up from the podium, he was surprised to see Grace standing in the back.
So she came after all.
His eyes wanted to linger on her, to see if she was okay after the emotional time she'd had in church, especially with the music, but he didn't have that kind of luxury. He had to get the meeting started, and no one else was going to do it for him. Somehow, he always seemed to land these roles. Taking care of his siblings, leading the community in whatever project they were doing, and even with his newest, most secret job. Somehow the mantle of being in charge of that had fallen on his shoulders.
