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After a serious cold compress session and a pound of concealer, my puffy eyes are finally presentable for church. I’ve come this far; I’m not about to let my heart mess all this up for me. He’ll probably be there, and everyone will stare at the physical and emotional distance that’s between us. He has to know that I have to be at church, so the nice thing to do would be to let me have my time. He can have the church the rest of his life. God, I hope he doesn’t show. But I want him to.
I slip in right as the organ cranks up for the first hymn and slide into the back pew, next to my favorite brat who throws spitballs at my face. I give him a warning glance before he settles in next to his mother. Sweet Lily scans the crowd, and when our eyes meet, she grins real big and waves. She whispers something to her mother. Faith looks over at me with her mouth turned down. She mouths “no” to Lily. Lily turns to me one more time and frowns before she slinks down into the pew. I sure could use a Lily hug right now, but it is right of Faith to not get Lily caught in the middle of all this.
Gunnar walks past me and sits next to Lily. She climbs onto his lap and whispers into his ear. He shakes his head and stares straight ahead. Please don’t let me cry in front of all these people. I’m so glad I don’t see Willow because the few bites of breakfast I did manage to eat might make an appearance all over the sanctuary’s carpet.
Someone taps me on the shoulder. I jerk my head up to see Liza standing there. She never goes to church. My mouth drops, and so does the pastor’s. She motions with her head for me to scoot over. She slides into the pew next to me and holds my hand. I rest my head on her shoulder and whisper, “Thank you.”
During our passing of the peace, the pastor says, “Andie, this is your last required attendance. I would love it if you would take up the offering.”
I take a gander around the room, and as soon as my eyes land on Gunnar, he snaps his head in the other direction. “I’m not feeling well. I don’t want to give anyone a virus.”
He hands me a bottle of hand sanitizer. “Nonsense. One last time.”
“I’ll help,” Lily says, running up to me. Bless her heart. I’m going to miss that darling angel so much.
“Lily, that is so sweet of you to volunteer. Thank you.” The pastor gives her shoulders a squeeze.
Faith gives me the faintest of smiles and a single nod. Gunnar bows his head to read the church bulletin. He is the definition of handsome, especially when that dark lock of hair falls over his eyes. I want to brush it away like I’ve done plenty of times, but I can’t. He hates me, and he hurt me.
During the offering, Lily insists I take up the collection on the side of the congregation where Gunnar sits. I train my eyes on the offering plate and try to pretend I’m happy while I walk down the aisle and stop at each pew. When the plate is being passed back to me, Faith takes it and hands it to Gunnar. Without looking in my direction, he shoves it my way but misses my hands. The offering plate clangs to the floor. Dollar bills and coins fly everywhere. A red-hot flush runs up my neck. Making a fool of myself in front of the entire congregation is what I’ve always been afraid of happening, and to do it at Gunnar’s feet right after he broke my heart is more than I can take. I wipe a tear away as I kneel down in the aisle.
“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know if I’m apologizing to the congregation for disrupting the service or to Gunnar for the miscommunication. Or maybe it’s to myself for falling in love with this man and this community. With shaky hands, I grab the money off the floor. Lily runs up to help me. My breaths are rapid. On my knees, I lean over to grab some money by Faith’s foot, when Gunnar’s hand stops mine. He picks up the money and hands it to me. His touch lingers for a millisecond longer than necessary. I miss his touch. This may be the last time I ever get to feel his hand on me, so I savor the moment, even though we’re in the middle of church.
As though he suddenly realizes what he’s done, he snatches his hand away, and the moment is gone.
“Thank you,” I whisper. I doubt he heard me, but it was mainly for me, anyway. My “thank you” was for more than helping me collect the money I dropped. It goes beyond not reporting my slipup when he could have. It even goes beyond the intimate times we spent together. It’s for welcoming me into his family and never treating me like an outsider. I felt more at home here than I have anywhere in my life. But I don’t anymore.
When we finish taking up the offering, Lily and I march back up to the front and place our plates at the altar. Lily gives me a high five, and the congregation giggles.
“Let’s give a round of applause to Andie. No one is an official member of this congregation until they’ve dropped an offering plate.” The congregation stands and claps for me. All except Gunnar, who stays in his pew, focusing on the floor in front of him.
I shrug as I walk back to sit next to Liza. She hugs me. Even the brat next to me gives me a thumbs-up. Regina gives me a faint finger wave, and Sarah Jackson dabs at her eyes with a tissue, which makes me want to give each of them a big, crushing hug. After today, I will have fulfilled all the stipulations in Granny’s will. I should be happy. It’s only money. I don’t need it, and I surely don’t want it anymore.
#
TEARS AREN’T USUALLY an ingredient in Granny’s jam recipe, but they are today. It’s never too early to get started on Monday’s orders, and after I scooted out of church like a scalded dog, I had to do something, or I would go crazy. I measure out the whiskey and pour it into the boiling pot of fresh strawberries from the Jackson’s garden. The golden liquid calls to me. On a day like today, I could use a little bit of liquid companionship. It would be so easy to drown my sorrows. I’ve done everything I needed to do to inherit the money, and the developers want an answer by tomorrow, so I need to make up my mind. Today’s church service was the last on the checklist. I’m free. I can do anything I want. I can drink until I pass out. It would be nice to sink back into my old ways. It would be so easy.
I hold up the bottle, and the familiar smell wafts over me. Screw you, Gunnar. You don’t deserve me. This town doesn’t deserve me. I’m done. I bring the bottle up to my lips, but before I take a sip, my hand freezes.
No.
This isn’t what I want. Even without Gunnar or this town, I don’t want to be that person anymore. I’ve gone over a month without even the desire to get drunk. I’m not going to start now. I’ll have to get through my sadness in other ways, like finding friends to lean on, or hey, maybe I’ll even read Granny’s Bible. It may give me some strength like it did for her all those years.
With this being my last batch of jam I’ll ever make with Granny’s secret ingredient, I pour the remainder of the whiskey down the sink and toss the bottle into the trash. I can actually breathe again. I feel ten feet tall right now. I can do this. I know I can.
After sterilizing the Mason jars, I line them up on the counter and, one by one, spoon the scalding-hot jam into each jar like a pro. I don gloves, screw on the lids, and let the jars cool on the counter. They are my babies. I label each one and decorate the lids with ribbon and a gift tag.
“Granny, I hope you’re proud of me. I’ve tried super hard. I really have. Thank you for making me come here.”
A peace comes over me like I can’t explain. I know she’s watching over me, and in that moment, I feel her loving arms around me, telling me she’s proud of me. And this time, happy tears flow down my face.
A knock sounds on the door, making me jump. Maybe it’s Gunnar. I wipe the tears from my face and rush toward the door. When I fling open the door, as Mrs. Cavanaugh would say, I could have been knocked over with a feather. It’s not Gunnar.
It’s Regina and Willow.