5

“Father, Jesus, I really don’t know how to pray. If You mean so much to Foxx and Fred and all those people I met yesterday at church, show me what I’m supposed to do. I guess You’re the same, but different parts. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And I’m about to become a student. I’m here at this place to see if someone has thrown away or donated a Bible. Is it selfish to ask for one? I need to find out if You are real. If all I heard at Salt Creek Community is true, help me believe. Amen.”

Pepper removed her hands from the steering wheel and exercised her fingers. Spread them apart and together, pulled on each one until the knuckles cracked, and rubbed them in an attempt to soothe the stiffness. They always ached after a day of work. Would she develop arthritis? Older employees claimed, due to lack of dexterity, that they’d gone to fitting bigger, less precise metal parts on the production line in order to keep their jobs at the motorcycle plant.

She grabbed her purse and entered The Pack Rat. The main room, filled with odds and ends, smelled better today. Ah, the glass on the jewelry cases shone. Too bad the towels and bedding and curtains didn’t exude the same freshness. The word exude in her reading earlier had chased her to the dictionary. A good word.

Across the aisle, a customer clinked together antique dishes. They also glistened, and called for a closer look on her return from the bookshelves. If she were employed here, the books would be alphabetized by author. At least the nonfiction was separated from the novels. A sneeze worthy of a deep chuckle took her by surprise. Books sure gathered and retained dust. So many curious titles on the shelf. What was a Bible Commentary? What did a devotional mean? Several spines read Christian in their titles.

And then, seven books with Holy Bible stood at attention in a row. How in the world did a person know which one to choose? She opened a black leather one that said King James. Small print old English would slow down her reading. The next volume proclaimed its translation. Pepper fanned the pages. They were soft and thin, filled with contemporary language and numbered with explanatory notes that should help her understand. The volume was flexible, not too heavy, and the burgundy faux leather spine felt just right wrapped in her hand.

Pepper held the closed book to her chest. Thank You. Praying again drew a smile.

She moseyed on the return to the front of the thrift store. It made sense for Christmas stuff to be shelved in one place. Knickknacks were always jumbled with other items. A snowman cookie jar, now on her counter, had stood tall amongst pots and pans. Today, a tiny ivory colored Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus, carved out of plastic on a two-and-a-half-inch dark brown stand, was crowded to the back of a collection of old doll house furnishings.

A smile broke across her face. Thank You, again. She had resolved to shop for and buy one Christmas item each week for her new home, so nothing else tempted on her way to the register.

Fewer leaves on the trees and more color signified the days marched closer to the holidays.

Foxx expected his sister to visit around then.

Home. She stepped across the threshold. Contentment swelled in her heart. She’d waited so long. Satisfaction brought tears. She closed her eyes and inhaled the pine scented candle next to her rocking chair. With the new Bible snuggled against her chest and the plastic nativity folded in her hand, the ambiance of home soaked into her thoughts until gratefulness flooded her being. Would such fulfillment ever grow old?

A storage unit, nothing more than a tin box, had never been a home. Oh, to wipe away the memories of Unit Seventy-three. But the images often encroached upon the backs of her eyeballs. Rented and inhabited by Barney and Doris Rainwater. And their two girls who were supposed to remain out of sight so the storage unit manager wouldn’t find them living there.

No more clutter in a confined place for her. Those four walls, three when the door was rolled up, crowded her out at times. She and her sister ate off trashed TV trays. They often fought over who got the one without the broken leg. Mom ate while sprawled across her sleeping bag. Dad usually ate without them, somewhere away from number seventy-three. If he did bring home food for himself, he stood with one hand above his head, perched against the door frame. Pink, I hope you are satisfied with where life has led you.

Pepper opened her eyes. Pleasure rippled through her as she gazed at the Christmas garlands that draped doorways. No more than three items were perched on the same surface space. She squeezed the Bible, and the edges of the little Mary and Joseph dug into her hand.

“This is my home. Christmas, just for me. Anything is better than where I grew up.”

~*~

Foxx leaned his bike against Pepper’s garage and then cocked his head. Singing. From inside the house. He knocked. No answer. Then he turned the knob and peeked.

“Mine, mine, mine. Finally, mine. Free, free, free. Free to be me.” She twirled around the kitchen.

I don’t want to embarrass her, Lord. He tapped three times on the screen door frame. “Hello?”

Pepper froze. And blushed. Slapped fingers over her mouth. Beautiful, the way those lightning blue eyes sparkled.

“Uh, dare I ask?” He wove his gaze downward, from a messy ponytail, over purple T-shirt, and well-worn, medium-blue jeans.

She waved her arms. “Do you think this is a library?”

Bewildered, he let his puzzlement show. “Excuse me?”

“You’re checking me out.” She sucked in her cheeks. To hold in a smile?

“This side of you is new to me. I like it.” He groaned. And scanned her from head to toe again. Her lips remained in a pucker. “I dig your green sneakers.”

She dropped her hands, and peeked at her covered toes. “Chartreuse.”

“What?”

“Chartreuse, the shade of green.”

“Sure it is. Do they light up after dark?”

“No idea. I get impulsive sometimes. I gotta follow my heart when something catches my eye.”

“Those shoes sure caught mine.” He closed the inside door against the chill. The sun was sinking fast. “I’m checking in to see if your Monday went OK. Must be fine, since you’re dancing and singing.”

“My house makes me happy.” Color rose in her cheeks, darker this time. “Good. Work was good. I’m good. I had some great finds today. Come see.” She led him to a serving cart next to a rocker. “A Bible and a little Christmas.”

“You found a nativity. Great. I see the brochure from church is open. Do you have any questions?”

“Not yet.”

He turned to the sink. “Mind if I get a glass of water?”

She jumped toward him, but kept her hand on the Bible. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I should have offered. I’m a terrible hostess.”

He laughed. “No worries. Would you like some?”

At her nod, he swung back and grabbed two glasses off an open shelf. “These are nice. Better than dark cabinetry.”

“The cupboards caught my eye right away. They must have been white once, but the sage is a soothing color. I told you we were north before coming here. Four of us lived in a 10x20 storage unit. The number seventy-three will be ingrained on the front of my mind forever.” Her voice had lowered along with her head.

Had he heard right? Foxx leaned forward to pay closer attention.

“We came from Oklahoma, but I don’t remember much before the box. My father got laid off when the pipeline was shut down and then worked as a janitor for a large delivery warehouse on the weekends.”

The last words were whispered. She shook her head and set down the Bible. “I’m sorry. I wanted Christmas around me to help me forget. When I was with them, Pink and I never celebrated Christmas. That’s why I decided to trim my home when I bought it. The first Christmas that will be mine. And I might keep my house this way all year long.”

He frowned and then slanted a half smile. “I’m trying to understand. As long as you don’t get tired of it. But I have to admit I’d have been devastated without Christmas as a kid.”

“Can’t miss what you’ve never had. Well, I guess you can. Pink and I heard about Christmas, and sometimes, when we were allowed to walk outside only at night, we’d see the lights and decorated trees in houses. We’d ask questions, and my mother would tell us it was Christmas. She never explained more than that. It was so pretty. She said we couldn’t have it though.”

Pepper met his glance briefly and then stared over his shoulder. What was she picturing from her past?

“We knew no different. My childhood was abnormal, to say the least. Let’s leave it for now.”

Foxx’s mind twisted like a whirlwind. He’d been blessed. He had no regrets over the way Dad had treated him. He’d need to know a lot more about Pepper if he planned to count her as a friend. He’d like it to be a closer relationship, but his new friend needed Christ in her life for him to even consider anything more.

Water sloshed over the rim of her glass. “I’ve decided since the new decoration is so intricate and lovely, it belongs on a window sill.”

Foxx scanned the open space of dining, kitchen, and living room. “Above the sink?”

“That’s just what I was thinking.” She set it on the sill. “It looks lonely. But I’ll see it often, and it’ll be a good reminder.”

“Yes. The reason for the season of Christmas.” The Christmas thing―obsession or compulsion―he’d never have to scrounge for something to buy her. What am I thinking?

“I’ve been thinking I’d better get a couch with my next paycheck. Any ideas as to how I’d get it here?”

“You’d be surprised what I can haul in my SUV. Fred has a pickup I’ve borrowed before. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us using it. Speaking of which, shall we say hi to Rex and Rhoda before nightfall?”

He helped Pepper into her jacket, held open the door for her, and zipped up his coat while she locked the door. He chuckled.

Pepper nudged his arm. “You have a unique way about you.”

“How’s that?”

“Kind of like Rex’s hello to me. You don’t really laugh, but you make a happy, heh heh chuckle sound somewhere between your chest and throat. It makes me feel good.”

In a natural movement, he took hold of her upper arm. Pepper didn’t flinch. He wanted to slide down and hold her hand. Instinct told him she wasn’t ready. “Do you want to talk some more about your upbringing? I find it fascinating. And hard to believe. Granted, you were a bit cynical when we first met.”

A raspberry sputter came first. “Right, like that would ever happen to anyone else in my shoes.”

“I was about to say that you seem so grounded. And not bitter, but sure of who you are.” Aw what the heck? He wove his hand down and took hers.

She stopped.

“What?”

Pepper cleared her throat. “No one but my sister has ever held my hand.”

~*~

Nothing in her upbringing had prepared her for how to interact with a man. How would a normal woman relate? Pepper had danced like a goof, sung nonsense words off key, embarrassed herself, turned guilty, made silly noises, and halted their walk. One thing was certain. The strength, the warmth, the comfort of his touch yanked at her heart. She wanted more of Foxx.

He squeezed her fingers, and threaded them. Much better than her exercises to warm her. How could his hand hold hers with such gentleness? His touch affected her breathing. Excitement was a new sensation in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ll listen to whatever you’d like to tell me. I also promise it stays with me. I don’t pass on what someone shares with me.”

Was Foxx trustworthy? The cautious part of her wanted to hold back, but something about his attentiveness, openness—his gentle touch—told her to dive in. “We weren’t allowed to speak during daylight hours. No radio or TV. That way, my parents could hear if someone came to their own storage units. At night, my mother would sometimes take us on walks. We’d even go to the nearby neighborhood and walk around a little, but we had to know where to hide so if people or cars came near no one would see us. We were continually reminded, and I can still hear my dad’s voice with ugly warnings. ‘If you ever run into anyone at night, do not tell them your names. The government will find us the same way as they interfere by reading our mail before we get it.’ Dad paid for a post office box, but never shared the mail. Pink and I couldn’t read.”

He came to a halt. “What? Are you kidding me?”

She raised her brows and cocked her head in reaction to the way he’d searched her face.

“But I’ve seen the Bible on your table. And you own books. How’d you ever learn?”

“On our own. You asked for this. Words at the bottom of TV screens and the library. Kids’ books. We ate one meal a day, off a 99-cent fast-food menu. As pre-teens, we were allowed to dumpster dive at night. There weren’t as many cameras then. Anything we found had to be brought back and shared. Occasionally, we sneaked back crayons or pens.”

“Pepper, may I hold you?”

She relaxed, purposely smoothed her features, and nodded in response to his intent look. He stepped closer. She drew in his scent. Something like…pine? Maybe cedar or sandalwood. Whatever, his pleasant aroma surrounded her. They fit together like a picture in a frame.

Pepper spoke against his chest. “As an adult, I realized how odd my parents were. Paranoia didn’t begin to describe how they believed everyone was involved in a conspiracy to brainwash, control, and watch them.”

“It’s a wonder you survived.”

Just then, the distinctive warm-up of Rex’s bray rattled the air. Rhoda joined in.

Foxx loosened his hold, took her hand in his. “Someone’s calling you.”

His nearness kicked up her heart and made her aware of her inner being.

Not only the donkeys called, but Someone else as well. Could it be God? Thank You, if this nudge is from You, for leading me to that Bible today. Thank You for landing me in Garland. And bringing Foxx to me.