September
LANCE DIDN’T KNOW HOW HE’D GOTTEN ROPED INTO THIS. A small cookout at home turned into a fun hangout for the Bible study group, which morphed into a Labor Day bash that included friends from Living Word. And Lance had been designated host and grill captain.
Darrin was supposed to help, since he’d invited himself and the LW gang, as he called them, but he hadn’t arrived yet, and over two dozen others had. So Lance got started on the basic plan, hamburgers and hot dogs, while Trey and Molly worked on the sides.
He walked inside now through the kitchen. People were everywhere—outdoors, kitchen, dining room, hunched over plastic plates, talking. Lance glanced around for Trey to help get more chairs but, not finding him, headed down by himself. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard voices.
“You can’t fire that up in here, man,” Trey was saying.
“Since when?” a guy said. “We always roll like this at your parties.”
“First, it’s not my party,” Trey said, “and second, I don’t roll like that anymore.”
“You need to put it out,” another voice said. “Now.”
Is that Timmy?
“Whatever, man, I’m out of here.”
The guy swept past him on the stairs as Lance continued down.
“I’m proud of you guys,” Lance said, pulling each to a handshake-hug. “Seems like yesterday you were partying and trashing the house. Now you’re cleaning up behind the last guest and picking up in the yard, from napkins to paper plates to soda cans.”
Timmy looked from Trey to Lance, confused. “What?”
“I think he’s saying that’s what we’re doing tonight,” Trey said. “As payback.”
“Payback?” Lance put his hand to his chest in disbelief. “Never. Just life lessons in responsibility.”
“That party, though . . .” Timmy’s eyes brightened with the memory. “In terms of sheer volume of attendance juxtaposed against how late in the day we put the word out . . . killer.”
Lance patted him on the back. “To the last stray paper cup in the living room.” He went to the stacked chairs. “I need you guys to help with these too.”
On the way up with folding chairs, Lance heard Darrin’s voice. “Finally decided to show up?” Lance called.
At the top of the stairs, he saw him in the entryway—with Adrienne and her roommate. Darrin hadn’t said he was bringing them, but Lance wasn’t surprised. He set the chairs down to greet them.
“Hey, stranger.” Adrienne hugged him, then gave his shoulder a playful hit. “I thought we were friends. You’re a hard person to keep up with.”
He smiled. “I guess I can’t deny that.”
The group of them settled outside as Lance and Darrin put more meat on the grill. Adrienne and her roommate pulled up chairs close by.
“Did I hear someone say there’s a Bible study here on Wednesday nights?” Adrienne asked.
“There is,” Lance said. “We started it earlier this summer, for people in the area.”
“So that means my roomie and I can’t come?” She gave him a playful glance. “Would you deny us entry to a Bible study, Pastor Lance?”
He flipped a burger. “If you don’t know the secret password, you will indeed be denied admittance.”
“Seriously though, I’d love to hear you teach,” Adrienne said. “I happened into part of your message at one of the youth services and got a lot from it.”
“So I’m assuming,” Darrin said, tongs in hand, “that if Lance planted a church, you’d visit?”
“Oh my goodness, is that a possibility?” Adrienne tipped her can up and sipped some soda. “I love Pastor Lyles, but if Living Word plants another church with Lance as pastor . . . I’m there.”
“Darrin’s just talking,” Lance said, giving him the eye.
A line began forming, Molly among them, as sizzling hot burgers came off the grill.
Lance scooped a burger onto Molly’s bun. “Hey, Moll, how’s Kendra? Still in bed?”
“Yeah,” Molly said. “She took some pain medication and went to sleep.”
“Okay,” Lance said. “I’ll check on her in a little bit.”
Trey brought his iPod outside. “We got some requests for line-dance music,” he said.
Lance made a face. “Are you serious?”
“You got a problem with that?” Cedric came over, laughing, with his wife in tow.
“Cedric thinks he’s the line-dance king,” Cyd said. “Something he can still excel at in his forties.”
“Aw, that’s cold.” Cedric grabbed her hand. “But can you still hang with me? . . . That’s the question.”
Trey cued up the “Wobble,” and in seconds the grass had filled with people. Cedric and Cyd took the lead to show the others what to do, and in no time everyone was leaning side to side with their arms in the air.
Brooklyn had been playing games inside with a few of the younger kids but ran out when she heard the music. She pulled Lance from beside the grill. “Come on. Let’s dance,” she said.
Lance resisted. “Go out there with Trey, Brooklyn. That’s not my thing.”
“Oh, stop being a fuddy-duddy.” Adrienne got up and took his other hand. “It’s painless. Come on, just once.”
Lance followed them out there. There were four rows of line dancers, and he made sure they took the back row.
He got a kick out of Brooklyn. “I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he said.
She wobbled left, then right, grinning. “We did this in day camp.”
Adrienne knew it, too, dancing smoothly, coaching Lance with her movements. “See, you’re getting the hang of it!”
“I wasn’t worried about getting the hang of it,” Lance said. “I just think it’s silly.”
She pushed his shoulder. “Oh, stop.”
Everyone quarter-turned, and Lance’s line became the front. Cedric shouted from the back, “Go, Lance! Go, Lance! Go, Lance!”
Lance waved him off, laughing. Then his eyes caught a glimpse of someone watching from the upstairs bathroom window.