The church vestibule was packed as Daisy made her way out of the sanctuary. Jack had brought another thoughtful sermon, and now the members gathered in small groups, catching up and making dinner plans. Daisy sometimes met her friends at the diner after church, but today she was picking up food for her grandma and her mom, who was still recovering.
Daisy glanced at Jack as she drew near. Monica Davis, a pretty thirtysomething single, was at his side, listening raptly to whatever he was saying. The woman laughed, touching his arm as she smiled sweetly up at him.
Daisy wanted to vomit.
And then Leah Sanders appeared at his other side, handing him a foil-wrapped dish. As he took it, a mottled flush climbed his neck. He tugged at his collar.
Part of Daisy wanted to rescue the poor guy. Another part of her wanted to encourage him. Either woman would make him a good wife. Leah was a local veterinarian and director of the children’s program at church. Monica taught Sunday school for the preteen girls and was an RN at the Piney Acres nursing home. Both women were smart, hospitable, and well regarded in the community.
Daisy’s eyes met Jack’s as she passed, and his gaze sharpened on her.
She gave an impish smile and waggled her fingers. “Careful not to sneeze, Pastor Jack.”
She watched the meaning register on his face, first as a twinkle in his eyes, then as a twitch of his lips.
“Have a good afternoon, Daisy,” he said when he found his tongue.
She was smiling broadly as she exited the church, and her heart seemed twitchy in her chest. She shook the feeling away as she wove through the parking lot to her car. She was just getting in when a text buzzed in. Julia.
Call me when you have a minute.
She must have news from Kade Patrick. Daisy’s fingers trembled as she dialed. Please, let it be good news.
Julia picked up on the third ring.
“Hey,” Daisy said. “I just got out of church. Any news from your brother?”
“He called a few minutes ago. He and Kade have been playing phone tag for a few days. Grainger’s in Nashville for a month, recording.”
Nashville was only a few hours away, but it sounded as if they were busy. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Actually, Kade said he’d like to do the concert, Daisy. He has to discuss it with their manager and agent, but the band is on board.”
“Really? That’s wonderful!”
“And that’s not all . . . They’d like to donate the band’s share of the profits to the Hope House.”
Daisy gasped. “What? Are you kidding me?”
“I’m hopeful it’ll all work out. I’d forgotten something about Kade—he grew up in foster homes. He really wants to help the Hope House.”
“Wow, this is just . . . I can’t believe this is happening. This is the answer to our prayers.”
“Well, it sure sounds promising. There’s the contract and legal stuff to make it all nice and tidy, but if his manager and agent are in agreement, and he thought they would be, this thing is going to happen.”
Daisy closed her eyes, her breath tumbling from her chest. “I don’t know how to thank you, Julia. This is amazing. I can’t wait to tell Jack.”
“Who’s Jack?”
“My pastor. We’ve kind of been working together on this.”
“Oh, right. Well, Kade’s supposed to get back with the final word tomorrow. If it pans out, there’ll be a ton of details to work out. The good news is, if you don’t mind my staying on awhile, I’ll be on hand to help.”
Daisy smiled. “I’d love that. But are you sure you can be away so long? I’m not keeping you from anything?”
“I’ve only got my online course to keep up with this summer, and that only requires a few hours a week.”
“I’d love the help then. Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure. I’ll let you know when I hear back from my brother.”
After getting off the phone, Daisy flipped over to her contacts. She’d only ever called Jack a few times, and she’d never texted him. But she couldn’t wait to tell him the news, and she didn’t want to interrupt his conversation with Monica or Leah or whoever had him cornered now.
She clicked on his name and started the message.
Good news! It looks like Grainger will probably be saying yes!
She added a prayer emoji, sent the text, then started her car. She should let Harper know too. She’d give the chairwoman a call when she reached her mom’s house. Before she could put the car in drive, a text came in from Jack.
Terrific news! Well done, Daisy. Everyone at the Hope House will be so appreciative. (BTW, you could’ve rescued me in here!)
Daisy laughed and texted back.
Where’s the fun in that? Keep the good news under your hat for now, okay?
He sent an emoji of a monkey with his hands over his mouth.
Daisy smiled. She liked Jack’s sense of humor—she hadn’t realized until lately that he even had one. She thought of what Hope had said on Saturday night and shook her head. Pastor Jack was so not interested in her.
Anyway, she had a perfectly nice man she was talking to, and she owed him a reply. She put her car in drive and went to pick up some dinner.
The call she’d been waiting for came the next evening.
“It’s a go,” Julia said. “Everyone’s on board.”
“Yes!”
Daisy could hardly contain her excitement. She couldn’t believe things were working out so well. She and Julia talked over some details, and when they got off the phone she immediately texted Jack.
He replied, congratulating her. He was eager to let Lucille Murdock, the Hope House’s CEO, know, but Daisy told him she’d have to check with Harper first, since a contract would have to be signed before it was official.
She called Harper and offered to take on some of the responsibilities of the concert. It was the least she could do since the festival committee was being so generous with the Hope House. Harper put her in charge of the performance contract, since Daisy’s mom was a lawyer. She also said to keep the news quiet until the contract was signed.
She settled against her pillows with her phone. It was her first night back in her own bed, and she’d missed her soft mattress and favorite quilt. Her mom’s arm was healing well, and she was tired of being hovered over. It was only a matter of time before Daisy would have to break the news to her about Julia. But she wasn’t going to think about that tonight. She had a letter to write.
She reread TJ’s last note, sent just this afternoon.
Daisy,
You have such a kind heart. It sounds as if you already have your hands full with your shop and your mom’s recovery, and now this fundraiser. I hope Grainger comes through for you. I’d think it would be good publicity for the band as well. A win all the way around. Let me know what you find out.
You asked about my high school years—to tell you the truth, they weren’t the best. I was gangly, pimpled, and socially awkward. And that was before my mom made me get braces! Of course, eventually I filled out, the bad complexion cleared, and the braces did their thing. But those years took their toll. Some days I still feel like that dorky kid inside.
Write soon.
TJ
Daisy’s heart gave a squeeze at his words. She started a note back.
TJ,
Thanks for your kind words. I can’t help but want to give back to a community that’s done so much for me and my family. Those girls at the home are so deserving of a real chance. And I got the good news tonight: Grainger is officially coming for our festival! I’m so relieved. There’ll be a lot of work in the next few weeks, but it’ll be worth it.
Thank you for sharing about your teenage years. You have no idea how easily I can relate.
Should she tell him about her dyslexia? She was still self-conscious about it, and she didn’t want him to treat her differently.
She looked at TJ’s message on the screen. Maybe it was better to lay it out from the beginning, before she cared so much. And the way he had opened up to her gave her the courage to be honest.
I also had some traumatic years at school. I was diagnosed with dyslexia when I was twelve. But by then I was already behind in school, had been held back a grade, and my self-confidence suffered a hard blow. The other kids called me names, and all these years later, those words still haunt me.
It affects not only my reading and writing but can affect my verbal skills as well, especially if I’m nervous. I actually threw up in the middle of a seventh-grade presentation on Jane Eyre. It was awful.
I learned how to cope with the dyslexia, but unlike with you, there were no true fixes for my problem. Even now I sometimes write a customer’s address or credit card number down wrong or dictate their message incorrectly. Paperwork is overwhelming. If it weren’t for voice-to-text you would’ve caught on to my disability by now. So I do know what you mean about still feeling like that insecure kid.
I felt that way tonight when the festival chairperson assigned me the performance contract for Grainger’s concert. Silly, since I’ll only be passing it along to my mother to handle.
Thanks for sharing your heart with me. Chat soon—if I haven’t scared you away yet!
Daisy