Chapter Seventeen

Lori set down Charles’s scriptures and drew in a contented breath. In her time here in Brigham City, especially during the week and a half since speaking with Marti, she’d fallen into a gentle routine.

She supposed she was doing what Marti had suggested long ago—Lori was slowing down. And, surprisingly, she found herself enjoying the relaxed pace.

She was going to bed by ten o’clock, when her New York friends were just hitting the clubs, which she’d never felt comfortable in anyway, and she awoke feeling almost decadently rested around eight. She’d leisurely get up, shower, and eat a good breakfast of granola and fruit. After that, she’d research and work on her column for four hours, fix lunch, and read the Book of Mormon for awhile.

She couldn’t explain it, but she found herself calmed by the time spent in that book. She was in Alma now.

Standing and stretching, she wandered outside into the garden. It was peaceful among the plants, too, and she’d never have guessed how much she’d come to enjoy the time spent here. Usually she came out in the cool of the morning or late afternoon, but today it was overcast and cooler than usual, probably only eighty degrees.

As she walked around the garden, plucking out little weeds here and there, she could see that the zucchini was going crazy. There had to be hundreds of them on the spreading vines.

Shaking her head, she raised her arms toward the plants and said, dramatically, “Zucchini, I command you to stop growing!”

Someone chuckled and she spun to her right, feeling foolish. Agatha smiled at her over the dividing fence. “Oh, child, there’s nothing on earth a soul can do to stop zucchini from growing. Why don’t you just let the garden go? Stop watering and weeding it. Let it wither away.”

“I can’t, Agatha. I promised Charles I’d take care of it.”

“Well, you promised to take care of his cat, too, but Fluffy is over here at my house again.” Agatha laughed. “So just let the garden go. It’ll give Charlie something to do when he returns.”

Worried she’d abused the older woman’s generosity, Lori asked, “Do you want me to take the cat?”

“Oh, lands, no. I want you to take it easy on yourself.”

“I only wish I knew how.”

“Important to learn. Well, gotta run. I’ve got a genealogy class tonight.”

Amused, Lori watched the older woman go inside. As she turned back to the incredibly prolific garden, shaking her head at the harvest awaiting her, her cell phone rang.

It was her mother. “Hey, honey, are you all right?”

“Sure. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I’ve just had a feeling to call you for the last day or two, and I’ve been so busy I haven’t gotten around to it. What’s going on? Why am I getting this feeling?”

Her Relief Society mother had always been far too intuitive where her children were concerned. So why not tell her mother? “Hey, Mom, would you like a good laugh?”

“Sure.”

Leaning over, she plucked off a perfect-looking yellow squash, brushed off the dirt, and set it on the grass. “I’ve gone to church every Sunday since I got here.”

“Which one?” Her mother sounded suspicious.

Lori laughed. “The LDS church, Mom.”

“Oh, honey, that’s great.” Her mother’s voice softened. “See, I told you it was fate.”

“Thanks for the I-told-you-so.” Lori smiled and went a step further. “John’s been taking me.”

“John?” Her mother’s voice perked up another notch.

“He’s just a guy I’m dating, but it’s no big deal.”

“Is he cute?”

Lori thought about his handsome face, broad shoulders and strong arms, tapered hips and long legs. And his smile. “Oh, yeah, he’s definitely cute.”

“And . . . he’s Mormon?”

Lori rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom. He’s a nice, Mormon guy. Nothing at all like Dad.”

Her mother paused. “Speaking of which, your father called me this week and asked for your phone number.”

It took only a few seconds for Lori’s good mood to dissipate and the conflicted feeling to reenter her heart. She hated her father for that—that he could still ruin her peace of mind and heart with just a mention of him. “I hope you didn’t give it to him.”

Her mother sounded sad. “I didn’t, not without asking you. But Lori, honey, you need to forgive him.”

“It’s not going to happen, Mom. Ever.” Her own words made her heart heavy with bitterness and anger and hurt. “Can we please talk about something else?”

~

Two days later, seated in the chapel between John and Serena, Lori’s mind wandered to the pleasant memory of John kissing her good night after last night’s movie.

She could get used to those kisses.

In fact, she hoped she got another one today.

She knew she’d decided to hang out more with other friends, and she had made some plans, but she was enjoying her time with John more and more, even though she knew he was just a holiday romance. But that couldn’t keep her from enjoying him while she was here. He was good-looking, nice to kiss, and fun to be with.

She settled back comfortably into her memory, hearing only bits and pieces of the bishop’s announcements. Her mind returned to a few days before, when John had brought her a bouquet of roses and daisies just because. She smiled.

“ . . . Lori Scott . . .”

What? The sound of her name brought her out of her reverie with a start.

“Sister Scott?” the bishop said from the pulpit. “Would you please stand so everyone can see you?”

Lori repressed a groan and did as instructed.

“Would everyone who can welcome the newest member of our ward please do so by the uplifted hand.”

Everyone raised their hand—well, except for Dawn Lawson, who was seated two rows ahead of them. Lori was sorry the pretty redheaded woman so thoroughly disliked her.

Lori sank back down between her friends, thankful to no longer be the focus of the entire ward’s attention.

John leaned over and whispered, “Who transferred your records so quickly?”

There was only one person who would have done this. The same person who’d done the same thing no matter where Lori moved, even though she’d sworn never to go back to church. “My incorrigible mother,” she whispered back.

John chuckled. “Incorrigible, eh? So you and she have a lot in common, I take it.”

She narrowed her eyes, but he continued to chuckle softly. She knew who she thought was incorrigible at the moment.

Unable to lose herself back in memories, Lori sat tensely through the bishop’s testimony and through the next thirty minutes of other people bearing their testimonies.

Finally, John reached over, took her hand, and rubbed his thumb across her palm, sending sensations shooting up her arm. Though she was acutely aware of his touch, at the same time she began to relax back into the bench.

Toward the end of the meeting, a little boy skipped to the front, the first child she’d seen today—not surprising in a singles ward. Barely able to see over the pulpit, the boy pulled down the microphone and spoke directly into it. “I love my family. I’m glad we got to come visit Uncle Steve. I love my brothers and sisters. Well, most of ’em. My brother Zach hits my arm too much, but I still love him. I know the Church is true. And I’m sorry my family sometimes uses the naughty four-letter word.”

Silence exploded across the chapel as the boy skipped back to his seat, unaware of the silent commotion he’d caused. Everyone turned to see the people the little boy was sitting with. After a long moment, the man sitting next to the little boy stood.

“That must be the little boy’s foul-mouthed father,” whispered Serena with a giggle.

The relatively young man—probably in his late twenties—worked his way to the podium, his face bright red. He cleared his throat. “Um, before I bear my testimony, I think I’d better clarify something. In our family, the naughty four-letter word stands
for . . .” Looking pained, he closed his eyes and spelled out,
“F-A-R-T.”

A rumble of laughter from the congregation was quickly muffled. After the noise stopped, he proceeded to bear a very nice testimony.

Serena whispered to Lori as they both struggled to stop laughing. “Are we still on for lunch Wednesday?”

Dawn turned to toss a quick glare at Lori, who could feel the other woman’s animosity from two rows away. Hoping to soften the situation, Lori smiled at Dawn, but Dawn frowned and turned away.

Lori glanced at John. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face down, he apparently hadn’t noticed the exchange, for which Lori was glad.

Lori touched his hand, and he immediately interlaced his fingers with hers. The warmth and touch reassured her. As long as she stayed close to John, she felt at peace.

Dawn might win John back later, after Lori left town, but for now Lori was thankful she had him.

~

After church, a man approached Lori. “Sister Scott? I’m Brother Jacobs. The bishop would like to speak to you.”

Whatever for? she wondered. Most bishops hadn’t called her in. But, she reminded herself, she hadn’t gone to church for years so they hadn’t had the chance.

She followed Brother Jacobs down the hall, making small talk, and stepped into the office.

The bishop rose, smiled warmly, and put out his hand as Brother Jacobs closed the door, leaving the two of them alone.

Lori shook the bishop’s hand—he had a nice, strong handshake—and sat in the indicated seat next to the desk. He settled himself in his seat, swiveling so he faced Lori.

Only a few inches taller than Lori, Bishop Robertson looked like a Marine sergeant, complete with short gray fuzz on his head, but with a belly that had expanded from a six-pack to a barrel. His smile was warm and friendly, and he reminded her of Greg’s likeable and encouraging Scoutmaster back in New York. That resemblance relaxed her somewhat.

“Sister Scott, I want you to know I’ve enjoyed your articles. You have a great deal of creativity.”

“Thank you.” She certainly hadn’t expected that, and the praise washed over her, bringing a warm feeling. He seemed sincere. “I’m surprised you’ve read them.”

“I’m not the only one. You’ve certainly enlivened the gardening discussions in my neighborhood.” He smiled. “And I’d like to see that happen around here. I want you to share your many talents with the other ladies, so I’m extending a calling to you to serve on our Enrichment committee.”

What? “Wait. I can’t have a calling. I’m not even active.”

He steepled his fingers and smiled. “Yet you come to sacrament meeting every week.”

Nervous, she twirled the necklace Grandpa Scott had given her. “I don’t know . . .”

“You are an expert on gardening and that’s what we want right now. What we need.”

She was so not an expert on gardening and that made her nervous; she’d doubtless start babbling any time now. She was totally unsuitable for this calling and she needed to help him see that. “I’ll be returning home in nine weeks.”

“Sister Scott, I still feel impressed that you are the woman for the calling, no matter how long you are available.”

Feeling trapped by his calm words, Lori wasn’t sure what to do. Normally she would retreat behind her barriers and turn down anything church-related. But, unfortunately, since she’d met John and come to church and felt the Spirit again, her barriers had weakened and she couldn’t seem to do that anymore. Thoughts ricocheted throughout her skull.

If the bishop would only speak again, maybe she could find some reason to be offended, to say no, but he just smiled warmly and waited for her response.

With a sigh, she reminded herself that these women probably had some good zucchini recipes. She could even set up a zucchini recipe exchange. Or recipes for other vegetables. How hard could this calling be, anyway? And she’d only have to do it for two months and then she could leave.

That’s all the time she had left with John, too. That wasn’t much time. She stared at the bishop. Why didn’t the word “no” just fall from her mouth? Was it because she could already see the disappointment on John’s face when he learned she’d turned down a calling? That shouldn’t make any difference, but somehow it did. And she couldn’t hide from herself the fact that it was his potential disappointment that caused her to say, “I’ll do it. But I can’t promise how well.”

“You’ll do a wonderful job, Sister Scott. I have no doubt.”

Lori wasn’t nearly so sure as butterflies began fluttering against her insides, tickling and agitating her fears.

“The first big activity is at the end of the month. Sister Serena Martinez is on the committee and can bring you up to speed.”

She wondered if Serena had volunteered her.

Bishop Robertson stood and put out his hand again.

Somewhat shell-shocked, Lori stood, shook his hand again, and allowed herself to be ushered out the door.

She, Lori Scott, had a calling in the ward? Where were the lightning strikes? Surely God wouldn’t allow her to do this without objecting?

Needing a moment to regain her composure, she slipped into a side coat closet. Though more and more people walked the halls, chattering, the alcove remained empty, quiet, and dark.

And, as if hiding in the shadows contemplating a new intimidating calling wasn’t enough of a concern, she glimpsed John walking past—with Dawn holding his arm.

Startled, Lori’s first impulse was hurt. But she saw right away that John looked uncomfortable and was trying to pull his arm away without being rude. So this was Dawn’s doing; Lori couldn’t fault the other woman for following her own heart.

In an effort to reassure herself, Lori reminded herself that Dawn would doubtless have John all to herself soon. But, instead the thought saddened her—and, at the same time, birthed a determination to claim her man for as long as she was still here.

Lori stepped out into the hallway behind them. Neither showed any sign of having seen her.

Just feet away, Lori watched Dawn look up at John. “I need some help. Our shower isn’t working, and you were so quick fixing the faucet I thought it might just take you a few minutes—”

John looked even more uncomfortable as he said, softly but firmly, “Dawn, I can’t.”

Joy sang in Lori’s heart. He was being true to her. With a smile and a few quick steps, Lori caught up to the couple and smiled. “Good afternoon, Dawn, John.”

Dawn stiffened, her smile cooling. “Good afternoon.” She turned to John. “Remember. I’ll still be here.”

As Dawn walked off, John looked stricken, as if Lori had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Again. “Lori, really, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Really?” She took the arm Dawn had just abandoned and smiled up at him. “Because it looks to me like you just stayed exclusively mine.”

Surprise and immense relief crossed John’s face. “Yeah. Well, that’s right.” He smiled as though very pleased with himself for having passed a test. Which he had, in Lori’s opinion.

She might only be here for a short time, but while she was here, she expected him to keep his promise. But she had to admit that she was surprised she trusted him.

Calm and peaceful, Lori walked outside, still holding John’s arm. As he opened the truck door for her, he leaned in for a kiss.

And she, like Grandma Scott, was easy kissed.

THE GARDEN GURU

Dear Ms. Scott: I’m tired of cooking the same old thing. Do you have any suggestions for uniquely flavored vege-tables? (Rebecca)

Dear Rebecca: Spice up your cooking with jalapeño peppers. Good for chili, salsa, and clearing out your nasal passages. Whether harvesting for immediate use or to freeze for later, be sure to use rubber gloves or clean the hot peppers under running water; this is one vegetable juice that bites back. Jalapeños are hot, but their Scoville units aren’t so high that you’ll have a serious reaction. You can find a wide range of heat levels, even on the same plant, and more so on different plants—anything from mild to Biker Billy’s hot. This plant takes the heat from the sun and transforms it into heat that will salsa dance on your taste buds. Rather than calling 911 if you have a three-alarm fire, skip the water and go straight to the dairy products (milk, ice cream, yogurt) which can break down the capsaicin oils. Enjoy!