Eight

Brendan leaned forward, toward the mirror, checking to be sure he hadn’t missed a spot. He’d been shaving for only a few days, and he could already list all the reasons he hadn’t missed it for the past eight years. But today was the big day. It was Sunday morning, and even though he’d miss all his friends at his own church, today he was going to Shanna’s church where he would see his friend Harry, whom he hadn’t seen for a few weeks.

He grinned at the clean-shaven stranger in the mirror. Out of respect, he had to remember to address his friend with the official title of pastor in front of members of Harry’s congregation, even though he’d known Harry since high school, years before Harry chose his path and entered Bible school, then gone on to seminary to get his master of divinity.

Today he would see if his friend recognized him in the crowd, although Harry’s church—or rather, Pastor Harry’s church—was fairly small. The congregation was approximately 250 people, a friendly size, but not one that had room for a lot of programs and special needs groups. His own church was huge. They had three services, all of which were packed; and outside of Sunday services, they had singles groups, over-sixty-five groups, athletic interest groups, single-parent groups, three different youth groups, college and career groups, women’s and craft groups—anything a person might want to do could be done with a group of other believers.

Brendan’s smile dropped. One group he would have wanted to know about was a women’s abuse group for Shanna, or at least a counselor. Even though physical violence was against God’s will within a marriage, it still happened within the Christian community. Despite his involvement, knowledge and information about groups that could help her would be unavailable to men for obvious reasons.

He turned away from the mirror and returned to his bedroom to get dressed.

What was his involvement with Shanna? As a Christian brother he wanted to help her, but where did the desire simply to help another believer end?

The nurse at the clinic had shooed him out of the examination room in order to assess Shanna’s shoulder, but the amount of time he was made to wait in the lobby took much longer than the time it would take to check for injury, even more than simple bruising. On the way home, Shanna had been very quiet, and she’d refused to look at him. He’d also thought a few times that she was crying, but she didn’t give him the chance to see much of her face while he was driving.

When he’d taken her home, his mother was upstairs with the children in the living room. Even knowing his mother could walk in on them anytime, he’d still wanted to embrace Shanna and tell her that she was strong and everything would be okay, but she wouldn’t let him touch her. The sinking feeling in his heart was more than disappointment at not being able to hug a friend. He’d felt the sting of rejection over something that wasn’t his fault, and he wanted to make it right.

Brendan didn’t know how much longer his mother had stayed at Shanna’s house after he left, but he knew she would never tell him what he wanted to know.

He’d been at Shanna’s house every day since then, working on her fence. To make the project last longer, he’d taken part of the playscape apart to make it bigger and better. Yet she never asked him what he was doing.

She was avoiding him, and he wanted to know why.

If she was afraid of him because of how the other men in her life treated her, he wanted to march over to Ray’s house and give Ray a taste of his own medicine.

Brendan squeezed his eyes shut. What he was thinking was wrong. It wasn’t his job to serve justice or to be judge and jury over Ray. It was his job as a Christian brother to protect Shanna and to help her overcome what Ray, and probably her husband, had done to her over the years. If Brendan threatened Ray physically to win the battle, that would make him no better than Ray. Brendan didn’t want to lower himself to that level, even though it was very tempting. The right thing was to suggest that Ray go for counseling, even though Brendan knew that Ray would never do it.

Once he’d buttoned his shirt and tucked it in, Brendan stood still, more aware of his own size than he’d been for years. He was six feet five inches tall in his stocking feet, and the last time he’d stepped on the scale, he was 260 pounds, none of it fat. Yet as large as he was, when he’d arrived at Shanna’s house in the clothes that showed off his physical attributes to the best advantage, he’d seen a glimmer of interest in her eyes. Then, less than an hour later, she was frightened of him.

It didn’t make sense.

But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that it was time to leave to pick up Shanna and her children and escort them to God’s house of worship. For an hour and a half, within the walls of the church building, she would be safe from the troubles of the world and could soak in the warmth of God’s love without worry.

❧

Shanna pasted yet another smile on her face as she introduced Brendan to another interested couple. She’d suspected that they would attract attention, but she’d never thought it would be like this. She could just imagine the chatter of the next week—that she had come to church with a man.

Not only was Brendan completely relaxed in the church crowd, but he was also perfectly sociable, happily chatting with everyone who wanted to meet him, which was most of the people there.

To make the picture more interesting to onlookers, instead of running around before the service like they usually did, Ashley stayed glued to Brendan’s hand, and Matthew wouldn’t leave Brendan’s other side. Walking in a row—with Ashley between Shanna and Brendan—they looked like a typical, happy family unit, except that the male member of this family happened to be the Jolly Green Giant.

Shanna tried to banish the picture from her mind. Without a doubt, Brendan was the tallest person in the room, which probably wasn’t unusual for him. She wondered if he’d thought about his choice of wearing a green shirt that morning.

She didn’t have to turn to look at him to know how good he looked. She liked his shaved chin, and the new haircut suited him. He made her laugh countless times, complaining about the gel he had to use to keep it spiked up. He looked positively dashing in the green shirt, despite the connection of the color to his height, along with pressed black slacks, black shoes, and a black tie. Not a lot of imagination there with the color coordination, but it looked great on him. She also wondered if he kept his wardrobe basic because he had a difficult time buying clothes so big.

Brendan automatically seated them in the back row, something she’d never done, but his consideration of anyone who might have to sit behind him impressed her.

He knew all the songs and sang with enthusiasm. When the children were called to go into Sunday school, he wasn’t shy when Ashley gave him a big hug—he hugged her back without hesitation or reserve before she scurried out of the room with the rest of the children.

Watching it happen almost brought tears to Shanna’s eyes. Her children were more responsive to the landscaper than they were with their own father. And he responded as if it were normal.

It was difficult not to be jealous of her children’s ability to be so open and trusting. She wanted to be the same way. For the first time in her life, she’d met a man who didn’t judge her or insult her for being stupid, and he made her feel valued as a person. She wanted to be hugged the same way as her daughter; yet as soon as Brendan came within two feet of her, she couldn’t control the gut-wrenching terror that the fantasy was over and it was payback time.

She felt the movement of Brendan beside her, accented because of her heightened awareness of him and his size. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Harry, er, Pastor Harry is a good speaker, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He is.”

Brendan snickered. “When he was still in college, whenever our senior pastor let him speak for a Sunday service, I used to sit in the front row and do everything I could to distract him. I keep telling him that’s why he’s such a good speaker. Because of me. It keeps him humble.”

“Shh! He’s about to start. Pay attention!” she whispered without turning her head.

As Pastor Harry shared his sermon, not only did Brendan pay strict attention, but he wrote notes in both his bulletin and in a very worn Bible, already full of notes in many different colors of ink.

Shanna forced herself to breathe. How could she think that Brendan was the least little bit threatening? He’d gone to church all his life, and his best friend was a pastor. His Bible was well-read and full of notes, obviously used often—probably every day. Her children loved him. Even her dog loved him. She didn’t know what was wrong with her that she couldn’t do the same.

“Shanna? Are you okay?”

She looked up at him. Even though they were both sitting, he was still big. “I’m fine,” she muttered. “I was just thinking of something.”

Before she realized what he was doing, he reached down and picked up her hand. He twined their fingers together, gently closed his fingers over her hand, then patted their joined hands with his other hand. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

He smiled, straightened, then settled back into his chair, except he didn’t release her hand.

Her first impulse was to pull away, but before she actually did, she realized that he was holding her hand without any pressure—he was allowing her to pull her hand out without resistance if that was what she wanted.

That wasn’t what she wanted.

He was giving her a choice, and she chose to keep things as they were.

Her heart raced, and her cheeks grew warm.

She wondered if this was how the teens felt holding hands in church.

It was innocent yet meant so much—at least it meant a lot to Shanna. Even when they were dating, when Roger held her hand, he made it clear that they were holding hands because he wanted to, and he didn’t release her hand until he was ready. Even then it was a demonstration of power. He’d just told her it was because he thought she was special.

Brendan was making it completely her choice, putting himself in a somewhat vulnerable position to be rejected if she chose to pull away. That he was willing to let her make the choice showed that he didn’t need to demonstrate his power—his strength was inside, where it could be seen only if a person cared to look.

She gave his hand a little squeeze to let him know she appreciated his gesture. He smiled without turning his head, still paying attention to Pastor Harry’s sermon.

Shanna sighed. If only Brendan were a foot shorter, a hundred pounds lighter, and an accountant. And didn’t wear green.

When the sermon was over, Brendan released her hand to stand and sing the last song.

All through Pastor Harry’s benediction, Brendan grew restless beside her. At the closing “amen,” instead of filtering to the table at the back of the room to get coffee and a doughnut before the children were dismissed, she followed Brendan to the front of the church.

Pastor Harry smiled when he saw her, although she did notice that he tried to hide his surprise that she’d come with a man.

“Shanna! It’s so good to see you!” Pastor Harry extended his hand toward Brendan. “And I see you brought a friend.”

Brendan’s hand met his friend’s, but when he spoke, he spoke with a fake accent so bad that Shanna couldn’t tell what he was trying to imitate. “Reverend Harry. Shanna, she has told me so much about you.”

Pastor Harry’s smile faltered momentarily when Brendan didn’t let go of his hand. “That’s good to hear. . . .” His voice trailed off. “Do you live nearby?”

Brendan increased the speed of the handshake, and his fake accent thickened. “I come from very far away. Very, very far.”

“How long will you be visiting our country? Would you and Shanna care to be our guests for lunch?”

When Brendan still didn’t stop shaking his hand, Pastor Harry looked down, while Brendan replied, “Ah, yes! It would very much honor me to accept your invitation. I hear your wife, she is a fine cook. Makes good borscht but doesn’t use beets.”

Pastor Harry raised his head, his eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. “Brendan?” He straightened and began to laugh. “Brendan Gafferty! What did you do to your face?” Both men laughed, released each other’s hands, and embraced in a manly, back-slapping hug.

When they stepped back, Brendan was still grinning. “I hope you know that you can’t take back your invitation for lunch.”

Pastor Harry wiped his eyes and grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Noon?”

“See you there. I hope you’ve got good ice cream.”

“Brendan!” Shanna hissed.

“Don’t worry. His wife always keeps a couple of cartons of Rocky Road in the freezer. One of them has my name on it.”

Before Shanna could say any more, Ashley appeared in front of Brendan, offering up the craft she’d made in Sunday school.

He hunkered down and accepted it graciously, then looked up at Shanna. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you first. I hope you don’t have plans.”

“I was expecting to go home, but I’ll gladly accept the invitation, even though I think you took advantage of Pastor Harry.”

“He had it coming. Besides, he borrowed a few of my tools that I need back. If you want to go visit with your friends, go ahead. I’m going to help clean up and stack the chairs, and then we can go.”