So this was what solitude was like pre-J.P. Weatherford. Nora had almost forgotten. It was a slow, two-cups-of-coffee sort of morning, and she savored every moment to the last drop.
She planned to attend the 11:30 church service, which gave her plenty of time to settle into her peaceful day. She would bask in it, knowing come tomorrow morning, it would be back to obtrusive tunes and unnecessary noise.
Rosie did figure eights around Nora’s legs in the kitchen, nudging a nose to the inside of her ankle.
“You hungry?” She crouched to scatter a scoop of dry food into the cat’s dish. “There you go, girl. Enjoy.”
The feline purred her appreciation. Nora nearly felt like purring too. She was so content, so at ease.
It was with that carefree spirit that she pulled into the lot of Harmony Ridge Church, locating a spot right near the front. Neighbors decked in their Sunday best with congenial smiles spread on happy faces greeted her. She slid her purse onto her shoulder and paced up the walkway toward the large wooden double doors.
Churchgoers from the previous service still lingered in the lobby while strains of beloved hymns from the sanctuary’s grand piano provided a joyful soundtrack for their fellowship.
“Good morning, Miss Paisley,” Pastor Blakely said, securing her hand firmly within his own. He was only a few years older than Nora, yet he carried himself with the maturity and grace of someone well beyond his years. He’d pastored in Harmony Ridge for a couple of months, but had already woven himself seamlessly into the tapestry of small town life.
Nora’s heart caught in her throat a moment. Had the apartment she’d cleaned yesterday been his?
She knew little about the new pastor, other than the fact that he was a bachelor with a dog. She’d seen him out jogging on occasion with a black Labrador retriever at the other end of a long leash.
She tossed the thought from her head. Not the place her mind should wander in church.
“Good morning, Pastor,” she replied, taking a bulletin from one greeter.
She found her place in the second row, like every Sunday. There weren’t assigned seats in church, but week after week, sitting in the same spot created an unspoken seating chart that most adhered to.
Tillie was already there. April would show up just after the first worship song, scurrying in to slip into her saved place on the pew.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Tillie greeted. She slid over to allow Nora more room.
“It certainly is a good morning, isn’t it?”
Tillie’s head cocked. “What’s got you so cheery?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Nora’s shoulders jumped in a shrug. “Maybe the fact that I was able to wake up on my own today.Andat a decent hour.”
“No loud music?”
She shook her head. “Not a single note. And no hammering or sawing, either. A glorious reason for celebration, if you ask me.”
Tillie opened her church bulletin and scanned it, then slipped it into her purse. “He’s really getting under your skin, isn’t he?”
The pews began to fill and the hum of individual conversations taking place at once consumed the small church.
“He’s gotten so far under my skin.” Nora’s eyes narrowed. “Like a tick. Or a—”
“Bee sting?” Tillie interjected. “Too soon?”
Nora straightened up and shook out her shoulders. “You know what? I’m in church. I’m not going to even think about him. Today is a good day and J.P. is not going to change that.”
Pastor Blakely took to the podium, and at his presence, the side discussions lowered to a hush. “Good morning, congregation.”
“Good morning,” the churchgoers echoed in one unified voice.
“It looks like it’s going to be a full house today, so if you don’t mind doing the church pew shuffle, we can make sure all of our friends are able to find a seat.”
The murmur from earlier grew again as people shimmied down their rows to free up space near the center aisle for attendees still searching for an open seat.
“There you are,” Tillie said to April, who came up on the other side of the row near the wall of colorful stained glass windows. “I was worried we’d have to give up your spot.”
