You can’t compare yourself to her, and you especially can’t change yourself because of her. She knew that still, small voice spoke the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to put on the comfortable dress. Instead, she dressed in a pair of black pants and the one designer shirt she owned, which she’d bought off the rack for a ninety percent discount.
She paired the satiny gold shirt with her highest heeled pair of boots. Her feet would hate her later, but the reflection in the mirror thanked her. She brushed her hair until the soft brown tresses shined to glossy perfection, then accessorized with a pair of modest gold hoops in her ears and bangles around her wrist.
Watch Deena not even come to church. When Darla had called her in an excited frenzy Friday night to tell her Deena might attend on Sunday, Phoebe had cringed. Church shouldn’t be a spectacle, and that’s exactly what it would become if Deena showed up. The singles’ event was bad enough—and she’d only witnessed a minute of it, not even long enough for anyone to realize she’d been there.
She’d since revamped her views. After her brutally honest introspection session, she acknowledged her unchristian attitude. The only reason she didn’t want Deena coming to her church was due to the green monster. And while she wasn’t crazy about the possibility of church turning into a gawking parade, she accepted that God’s picture was bigger than hers.
With that in mind, Phoebe left for church. The increasing wind speed tempted her car over the yellow line a few times, and she kept both hands on the wheel except for the second she turned the radio to an AM station. She listened to the forecast, surprised to hear a snowstorm could come as early as Wednesday.What a way to usher in a new month.
Every time she shifted her foot to the brake pedal and then back to the accelerator, her boots pinched her toes. Vanity had a price, and her pained feet were the cost for wearing the four-inch stiletto boots with a width too narrow for her wide feet. Despite being the shortest sibling at five feet, five inches, she’d inherited her father’s blocky feet, a trait she’d often begrudged but had come to accept.
When she pulled into the church parking lot, she scouted the area for any sign of Deena. No limo, no crowds, no paparazzi. By now, the media and tabloids had to have realized Deena arrived several days earlier than her management had leaked. Not that Phoebe would complain. In her opinion, the longer Jasper Lake maintained normalcy, the better.
Once again, she had to re-navigate her thoughts. Before she’d met Deena, she’d been excited about the possibilities this movie brought to Jasper Lake. Like Jessa, her older sister who headed the chamber of commerce, she was thrilled about the influx of tourism the movie would bring. Funny how one bad egg of a personality could taint that excitement.
She spied her mom’s car and an empty spot beside it. Pulling in between the white lines, she smiled. Sundays made her happy, especially the ones when her entire family gathered in the afternoon for a big meal and family time. Between Hunter’s prison sentence for drunk driving and Trixie’s disappearance, they’d had several rough years recently which made the time together that much sweeter.
After she turned off the car’s engine, she wrapped her scarf around her neck to ward off the gusts of wind. She rebuttoned her black leather moto jacket. When she stepped into the freezing air, she regretted choosing fashion over practicality. Her down puffer jacket would have offered better protection. She hurried inside as fast as her boots allowed.
Bev Talbot, the Sunday school director, stood at the welcome desk flipping through an old-fashioned Rolodex.
“Hi, Mrs. Bev.”
The older woman with snow-white hair and a graceful smile looked up. “Good morning, Phoebe. You’re looking lovely this morning.”
“Thank you.” She self-consciously ran a hand along her coat. Had she tried too hard? Nothing she could do about it now.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to do me a favor, would you?” Bev’s mauve lipstick made her smile appear larger.
“What class do you need me to teach?”
Bev laughed. “Am I that predictable?”
“When asking for help on a Sunday morning, yes, you are.” Phoebe returned her smile. “Tell me where you need me, and I’ll be there.”
“The first graders.” Bev sucked in a breath, undoubtedly expecting Phoebe to change her mind.
Ahh, the class with a reputation. “I don’t know why others dread them. They’re rambunctious but fun.”
“They respond well to you.” Bev handed her a booklet. “They are on lesson six this week, the story of Joseph reunited with his brothers.”
“One of my favorites.” She took the book and flipped open to the lesson. “Do I need to make the worksheet copies or are they already in the classroom?”
“I made them right after Melinda called and told me she wouldn’t make it in today.”
“Please tell me her kids don’t have pink eye again. The poor kids have had it forever.”
Bev shook her head. “Melinda’s brother surprised them this morning with an early arrival home from deployment. They’re on their way to the airport to pick him up.”
She had to exercise self-control in order not to squeal. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all month! Our class has prayed for Ramsey since he first got his orders.”
“I taught Ramsey in Sunday school when he was only a toddler, then had him in my homeroom when he was in eighth grade.” Bev blinked away a tear. “He’s like a child to me.”
“Our class hasn’t been the same without him making us laugh.” The memories made her smile. “And he always had insight into the passage we studied. He could take a confusing verse and explain it so that everyone understood what it meant.”
Bev winked. “He’s come a long way from that boy who answeredJesusfor any question I asked.”
Phoebe erupted into laughter. “To be fair, isn’t Jesus always the answer?”
