“Thanks, man.” He nodded to Rachel to end the call, then focused on getting off the highway and into the parking lot.
The downpour lightened to where he could make out the painted lines on the road and the headlights of other vehicles. From the number of cars and trucks parked with their lights on in the back of the lot, away from the stores, it appeared many others caught in the storm had the same idea.
“Good thing we left early.”
His gaze darted to the clock dash. “Depending on how soon this lets up, we’ll still be a few minutes late, but others will be also.”
Her cute nose scrunched, and he doubted she realized it. “Is it wrong to hope others come in late?”
“Why?”
“I hate walking in after the service starts.” She half smiled, half grimaced. “I wish I could say I had noble reasons why, such as I want to be respectful—which I do—but honestly, I hate when people turn back to see who the latecomer is.”
A chuckle slipped out, but he cut it short when he realized she was serious. “You don’t have to worry about that at my church.”
“Are there no doors to creak?” Her eyes met his in a pointed stare. “It never fails. The hinges could be perfectly oiled and never have made a sound before, but every time I’m late, they develop musical abilities.”
He burst into laughter, unable to control it this time. “I’m sorry, but I’m picturing animated doors with music notes floating above them.”
She flipped her wrists, showing her palms. “I’m serious. Tell me it’s not true that whenever you try to discreetly enter a room, everything you touch makes a noise magnified by a hundred.”
“Like sneaking in past curfew as a teen?”
Her eyes widened and she looked at him dead serious. “I never did that. It’s terribly selfish to make my parents worry because I wanted a few more minutes with friends.”
“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. Her strong reaction to his joke made him wonder if something happened in her past.
“Gotcha.” Peals of laughter bellowed from her chest. “I mean, it is selfish, but most teens aren’t exactly known for their selflessness.”
“I knew it didn’t sound right coming from you.”
“I wasn’t that precocious.” She shrugged and pinched her thumb and index finger together. “Okay, maybe a little.”
A loud buzz interrupted them when his phone vibrated against the dash. He picked it up and read the text message. All his laughter from moments ago vanished.
Rachel tapped his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“The storm caused damage to the church. No one was hurt, but they are asking everybody who isn’t already there to stay away.”
“Thank God there were no injuries. How bad is the damage?”
“It doesn’t say.” Still processing the news, he drew in a long breath. “Do you mind if I call my brother? He’s on the sound team at church, so I’m sure he was there.”
“Of course not, go ahead.” She turned and stared out the passenger window, as though that would give him privacy.
The pastor’s message said nobody was hurt, but he’d feel better once he heard directly that his family was safe. He prayed silently as the phone rang.
“Hey, Aaron, are you okay?” Damien, his brother asked in place of a greeting. “I tried calling you, but it wouldn’t go through.”
“I’m sitting in a parking lot until the rain passes, but otherwise good.”
“Did you get the message about church?”
“Just now. How bad is it?” He watched outside for any sign the storm would dissipate but saw nothing but flashes of lightning through the rain.
“Could have been much worse.” Damien sighed. “God protected us. The roof came off over the fellowship hall. Had it happened an hour later, we might have had injuries, or worse.”
“Wow,” he whispered in a hushed tone of awe. “Are Catelyn and Paige there?”
