Eight
Talia scrubbed the floor with more strength than she'd cleaned anything else. Why was Cruz going to open his tattoo place next door to their church? How had he managed that? And why? Just to irritate her? She scrubbed harder. Now she would be stuck seeing his face every day.
"Wow, you're really making progress with this entryway," said her dad.
"That's the goal, right?"
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"No, it's not."
He took the scrub brush from her. "What's going on?"
Talia frowned. "You know that abandoned hair salon next door?"
"On the right?"
She nodded, her nostrils flaring. "Cruz is going to put his tattoo shop there. Right next door to the church!"
"Oh, good. He found a building already."
Talia narrowed her eyes at him.
"And you don't think that's a good idea?" he asked.
"How could it be? Even the city council doesn't want him here. They couldn't have approved him getting that building."
Her dad put an arm around her. "Don't get yourself worked up. Everything will work out. I doubt Cruz is going to try to run us out of town. He's a good guy."
She took the scrubber from him and vented her frustrations back out on the floor's dirt and grime buildup.
"If you're that concerned, we can always talk with him."
"I'd rather not."
"He and a couple brothers are supposed to stop by later this afternoon to assist us."
Talia's eyes widened. "He agreed to help us out?"
Her dad nodded. "And he even confirmed with two brothers."
"Well, help is help." She put more muscle into cleaning. She rose, shaking her head. "Maybe I ought to stop with this entry and work on the sanctuary. We don't want to bring the pews in if it's still dusty."
"The pews themselves are covered in dust."
Her stomach twisted in knots. There was so much to do, and they really expected to put on a Christmas program? They'd be lucky to have a summer one at this rate.
He patted her shoulder. "Keep up the good work in here. This is what everyone will see when they first enter. If you keep this up, it'll sparkle better than when it was new."
"Why is he helping out when he has his own place to take care of?" she asked.
"Like I said, he's a nice guy."
She continued scrubbing.
"Well, I'm going to go back to the electrical box and see if I can figure out how to get the lights to turn on in the classrooms."
"Sure you don't want to call an electrician?" She pictured him getting shocked and her anger fizzled. "I don't want you getting hurt."
"I've done this plenty of times. If I can't get it to work after a real try, then I'll give one a call. I'll bet Cruz knows of a good local one."
"I can look it up on my phone," she said. "That would be quicker, and chances are, there's only one around here."
He chuckled. "That's very likely. You don't trust me with the electrical box?"
"I just don't want to see you injure yourself." Talia pulled out her phone and found her browser app.
"How about this? I promise not to do anything I'm not one hundred percent sure about. If I get stumped, I'll call a professional."
"Okay, deal." Talia would have felt better about hiring someone first, but at the same time, she knew her dad, and he preferred to do whatever he could himself first. She said a quick prayer for his safety before getting back to scrubbing.
The morning flew by, and before Talia knew it, her stomach was rumbling. She glanced around the entryway. It looked a lot better—almost ready to welcome people into the building, in fact. There were some cobwebs up near the top of the high ceiling, but those would take a ladder to reach.
She put all the cleaning supplies back into the closet where they belonged and went downstairs to see how her dad was doing. She hadn't heard anything, so that had to be good news. No fires or explosions—or whatever damage could be done trying to turn electricity on and off from an old fuse box.
Going down the stairs, she noticed several of the stairs creaked. Hopefully just using them would work those out. The last thing she wanted to think about was making any changes structurally. It was one thing to bring electricity to a room or wipe away grime, but to try to fix stairs—that could get messy. She didn't even want to think about what could be underneath them. The building had to be over a hundred and fifty years old.
One thing the realtor had mentioned was thinking about getting it earthquake ready. It wasn't a requirement in Kittle Falls, but she said it probably wouldn't be long before it was. They were in California, after all.
Talia wandered the downstairs, not seeing her dad. She found the fuse box, and it was closed. Talia went over to the reception hall. He wasn't in there, either. She checked the other little rooms down there, still not finding him.
After going through the entire downstairs, including a really creepy little closet with what looked like a trap door leading into what could only be an even worse basement, she went back upstairs. Had he gone up there, but she'd been so busy cleaning, she hadn't even noticed?
She checked the sanctuary, the kids' classrooms, the kitchen, and even the two little bathrooms. Where could he have gone? It wasn't like him to just leave without saying anything.
Maybe he'd decided to go out into the yard and just hadn't mentioned anything to her. She was starting to worry—she only had one parent left, and thought for sure losing him would be too much to deal with. She took a deep breath and scolded herself for jumping to conclusions and being ridiculous.
She pulled out her phone and sent him a text.
Where did you go?
Next door.
She let out a sigh of relief and went into the sanctuary. The sun shone brightly through the stained glass, which meant there was a break from the snow flurries. Talia stepped inside and looked at the windows which were still pretty despite needing a good washing. She thought about all the things there were to be grateful for—this practice had grown to be much harder since her mom's passing. Not only in her passing, but in the horrible way she had left this world.
Talia leaned against the wall. Her mom would have loved all this—the old building to fix up, the charm of the stained glass… but mostly, she would have been proud of her husband for leaving his "safe" job as the assistant pastor at their large church to take hold of his dream of becoming the head pastor. Even if it was a flock of zero so far. She also would have been really happy about Talia going with him to help.
Not wanting to get choked up, Talia cleared her throat and went outside for some fresh air. With them making progress inside, her dad might be more willing to let her put up some decorations—her favorite part of preparing for the holiday season. The lights and other festive decorations were a beautiful reminder to get in the spirit for all the wonderful things to come.
The trick this year would be to not think about how much her mom had been involved in making this her favorite season. No more walking home to the scent of freshly baked gingerbread men or snicker-doodles. No more decorating tree-shaped cookies with frosting and sprinkles—at least not with Mom.
Tears blurred her vision as she studied the church's front yard, trying to imagine the best decorations. Talia wiped at her eyes, refusing to let anything interfere with making the church festive.
A freshly made wreath for each door was a must. Lights on the two trees out front would be first—assuming the electricity panel would allow that. She studied the roofline. If she could find a tall enough ladder, icicle lights would be the cherry on the top.
Where would their nearly life-size manger scene go? The rest of their stuff was due to be delivered in the next day or two, and then she'd be able to get everything going. One truckload had arrived with them, but they'd had to wait on the other one. In between the building and what appeared to have once been a courtyard—but was now only weeds—sat an empty space that would be perfect for the manger scene.
Talia took a deep breath, stepping back for a bigger picture of how everything would look. Snow crunched underfoot and a few solitary flakes fell. They shone brightly in the sun.
Conversation drifted her way. That was odd—they'd barely seen anyone on the street aside from Jake, Cruz, and his friend. Were other abandoned businesses being brought back to life? Talia couldn't help feeling like maybe they were starting a mini-revolution.
She stepped onto the sidewalk, looking at the church building, but seeing what it would be like when filled with decorations. The voices grew louder and curiosity got the best of her. Talia looked down the road, but immediately regretted it. Her dad stood with Cruz, Jake, and another guy who resembled the two brothers. He had to be the third one her dad said would help them with moving the pews and tables.
Her dad glanced her way and waved her over. Talia groaned silently.