36

Luella drove toward church as Tara fidgeted with the notes to her speech.

Tara slapped the thin leather binder into her lap, leaned against the headrest, and sighed. “What was I thinking? I can’t do this. I couldn’t sleep last night. I feel sick, and my head is killing me.”

Luella had assured her a dozen times she’d do great. What else could she say? “Call Hadley or Elliott.”

“No. They can’t fix this.”

But in the seven weeks since they’d left St. Simons, Luella had seen much proof of how close the three of them were. “Come on. Give them a call.”

“No. They have enough to deal with as they drive here.”

Luella tucked a stray curl behind her ear as she kept her eyes on the road. No sense arguing. Tara had a stubborn streak the size of Texas. But it was actually a gift from God to get her through life with more than just her sanity still intact. She inspired people. Saved lives. And apparently hated public speaking.

Tara closed her eyes. “But as much as I detest getting in front of a crowd, I have discovered it feels really good to write. I’m on my third notebook.”

Luella thought Tara had been writing a fair amount, but she’d been rather private about it, even as they shared hotel or B&B rooms. “I’d like to read them, and if you’re interested in trying your hand at being published, I’ll do what I can. My editor doesn’t acquire that kind of manuscript, but she may know some who do.”

Tara sat up. “Maybe someday.” She shrugged. “Right now it’s just therapeutic, and my real work is getting the nonprofit established.”

While Luella worked on the tedious aspects of her research, Tara stopped at outfitter stores and talked to owners or managers. Almost every store was willing to consider donating to the cause once Tara had nonprofit status.

Luella turned into the parking lot. It had a sea of cars, and Tara gasped.

“This many people can’t have come to hear me.” Tara pulled her phone out and texted someone. A moment later her phone pinged. “Pastor Mike said he hadn’t expected this kind of turnout either.” Tara opened and closed the snap on her leather binder. “What was I thinking? Oh, he said they have a parking space reserved for us with orange cones. My guess is it’ll be in that area.” She pointed. “Near where his office is.”

“Okay.” Luella slowed, looking for a set of cones.

Tara fiddled with her phone. Was she texting someone else? A moment later she put it to her ear.

“Hey, Tara.” It was Gavin’s voice. “What’s up?”

There was no such thing as a private phone call in a shared vehicle. The person on the other phone was easily heard. Luella broke into a big smile. Was their friendship deepening? Luella had spent enough time with Tara to believe with her whole heart that Gavin and Tara could have a great and lasting friendship, one that met emotional needs for each of them. If Julep had a clue these two were texting and talking the way they were, she’d be beside herself with hopes and dreams for Gavin, Tara, and future grandchildren. But Luella knew most guy-girl relationships weren’t destined to end in marriage.

She spotted the orange cones and Pastor Mike and his wife on the sidewalk waving at her. He removed the cones and gestured for her to pull in.

“I’m a basket case.” Tara’s voice trembled. “The parking lot is full twenty minutes before start time, and…” She trailed off.

Luella pulled in and then reached over and squeezed Tara’s hand. As Luella got out, she smiled at them. “Hey, good to see you again.”

“How goes the research?” He glanced through the windshield at Tara. “Everything okay?”

“Some jitters, but she’ll be fine.” Luella hoped that was true. Tara got out, a huge grin on her face. She spoke to Mike and Patti, and soon Luella and Tara were walking behind them down the sidewalk.

“You look better,” Luella whispered.

“Gavin said I should run like the wind and never look back.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s a mess. He offered to head my way and find me and said we’d putter off into the sunset, never to be heard from again.” Tara chuckled.

“There’s a reason he has four mamas.”

“Yeah?” They went inside and down a long hallway.

“I didn’t pseudoadopt any of Dell’s or Sue Beth’s children. And they didn’t adopt each other’s either, but at one time or another when Gavin was young, we each adopted him. He’s different—vulnerable, tender, tough as nails.”

“Is this a sales pitch?”

“No, honey. Not from me. I believe in staying single if that’s what you want. I’m simply saying I’m proud of him and telling you why he has four mamas.”

“I need to get the microphone headsets.” Pastor Mike and his wife went into his office.

Luella stopped and turned Tara by the shoulders to look her in the eyes. “When you’re behind the pulpit, remember that these people love you. Many are weary of the battle. Others are scared of what life could bring their way. But you’ve survived their worst nightmares, and they’re hoping you tell them they can too. That’s all. It doesn’t have to be perfect, only real and honest.”

“You’re pretty good at this Mom stuff.” Tara smiled. “Thanks.”

There was shuffling in the hallway ahead of them, and soon Hadley and Elliott were engulfing Tara.

“I think all twenty of your mountain-hiking and rock-climbing crew are here.” Hadley removed a hair from Tara’s dress.

“James too?”

“The leader of the pack,” Elliott said.

“Good. I need to talk to him.” Tara turned to Luella. “I don’t see him a lot, but he gives good dad-type advice, and I need a bit of that. I’ll invite him, his wife, and the rock-climbing gang to the cabin, and we’ll get the fire pit roaring and make an afternoon of it. You mind?”

“Sounds perfect, but we’re not prepared to feed a crowd.”

“It’ll be easy. I’ve pulled these things off last minute a dozen times over the years.”

Tara focused on her friends and opened her hand. The small rock she kept with her rested in her palm. “Was this in my hand when I woke in the hospital?”

Hadley and Elliott glanced at each other. Hadley nodded. “Yeah.”

“It was missing before the house was hit with the storm. Who found it and brought it to me?”

Hadley put one hand under Tara’s and one over the rock. “We don’t know how it got in your hand, Tara. One of us was with you around the clock. It makes no sense that you had it in your hand.”

Tara stumbled backward until she was against the wall. A broad, beautiful smile spread across her face. She clutched the rock tight, her eyes closed as if she was praying. She hugged her friends, but no one said another word about the incident, as if it was too precious to question or analyze or gab about.

Pastor Mike and Patti came out of the office.

“Let me help you get this on and show you how it works.” Patti held up a headset and body pack.

Pastor Mike put his set on. “Tara, you sit on a pew in the front, and I’ll invite you up when it’s time.”

“Sure.”

“We have a seat for you.” Hadley motioned to Luella, and she followed them. Luella had been to this church a few times since leaving St. Simons, but it’d never been this full.

When Tara stepped onto the platform, she looked calm and comfortable. She told several funny stories about Sean, Darryl, and her. People laughed, some while wiping tears. She was hitting hearts, and Luella knew most of the people here would never be the same, not because Tara’s words were more profound than anything they’d heard before, but because most knew her or knew of her. She was a part of them, and she was sharing from a vulnerable place, not quite three months after her brothers died.

She quickly recapped going to St. Simons Island, falling asleep on the plane, and dreaming and believing that Sean and Darryl were still alive. She shared about the text messages from Darryl, the day her time at the hotel was up, and her losing her phone, credit cards, and cash in the rising tide. The crowd was clearly mesmerized.

Walking to the other side of the platform, she began again. “You all look horrified, but you shouldn’t, because while I was in the state of Georgia, I found my cabin. You know the one that sits not too far from here in the mountains of North Carolina. Yeah, I found it there, so in my thinking I had only two problems at that time. I couldn’t manage to connect with Sean and Darryl, and there was this roofer guy who kept coming inside my house and taking it apart.”

Her delivery of the sentences and her vivacious animations were perfect. People laughed despite the subject matter. She didn’t mention Gavin’s name, but she described him as a really bad guy, a force of evil, and she continued to add humor and make faces as she told of their various encounters. The crowd could see the scenario from Gavin’s point of view, and they laughed at her insistence of what a horrible person he was.

She paused and took a drink from a water bottle sitting on the podium. “So let’s circle back and talk about God. Sometimes our view of life and God are similar to the view I had of my St. Simons house and roofer guy—distorted and incomplete. I kept trying to squeeze what I needed to be true into my reality. It didn’t fit. I told roofer guy he was the worst repairman ever. He didn’t tell me the truth—that I was mentally incapable of grasping his level of understanding.

“When I think of how he handled that situation, I’m reminded of God—silent when we say ridiculous things that He knows aren’t true. Patient. Kind. And protective.

“A friend helped me see that we are all vessels. We will carry something to everyone we come in contact with. Let’s choose to be vessels of love, patience, hope, and faith. When it’s all said and done, whether you’re the one in the ground or a loved one is, the times you won’t regret are the times you loved deeply with patience and kindness and sacrifice.”

She paused, scanning the listeners. “And love never dies…”

Luella couldn’t stop thinking about Tara back when she was called Siobhan. What a journey she’d been on.

How could she embrace what Tara was saying and be a vessel of love in her own life? Her heart turned a little flip, and butterflies settled in her stomach. It was time to go home. And time to stop running from her feelings for Chuck.