After she finished fueling the truck, Gwen parked it and walked into the restaurant.
When they first pulled into the truck stop she had gently suggested that Lionel shower after all the tense moments. Instead of being embarrassed, he’d burst out laughing, made a rather bad joke, and told her she’d have to fuel the truck and wash the windows herself. He had still been laughing when he walked into the truck stop office with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, while all she could do was sit in the truck with her mouth hanging open.
She couldn’t believe the things that passed as conversation between them. She didn’t speak to her brother about the things she’d discussed with Lionel, yet she very much enjoyed the time she spent with him. There was only one explanation. She was losing her mind.
By the time she joined him in the truck stop’s coffee shop, there were two cups of coffee on the table and Lionel was reading the menu.
“Finally. I thought I would starve to death by the time you got here.”
Gwen refused to get into an argument about why women took longer to get dressed and ready than men. That was one of many topics she didn’t want to talk about with him but somehow always fell into. She slid into the chair and picked up the coffee cup, which he’d fixed just the way she liked it.
She took a slow draw on the coffee, savoring it, hardly able to believe that, after all that had happened in the few hours since she woke, it was only her first coffee of the day. Across the table, Lionel had nearly guzzled his entire cup. “You shouldn’t be drinking coffee after all this,” she mumbled over the cup. “You should be drinking something to calm yourself, like a nice soothing blend of herbal tea.”
He closed both hands around his throat, crossed his eyes, and made a gagging sound. A family seated at the next table turned to stare.
“Stop it,” she ground out between her teeth. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Herbal tea? What else do you think I should do, take up knitting? Or I know. Needlepoint!”
Gwen sighed in exasperation. “I know a few men who knit. It was only a suggestion.”
He stopped the theatrics, leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, and finished the last of what was in the cup. “I was only fooling around, Gwen. You should know that by now.”
The waitress returned with refills and took their orders, sparing Gwen the need to comment. As had been their pattern, Lionel ordered supper fare and Gwen ordered a nice brunch, since for her it was the first meal of the day.
When the waitress left, Gwen watched Lionel take a long, slow sip of his second cup. The laughter had left his eyes, the moment had passed. They were on a mission, and it was time again to get on with the job.
In contrast to his silly actions, when faced with a crisis his behavior was quite sober. He’d recovered quickly when thrust into the position of driving with her to take the critical load of machinery across the continent, especially considering the unusual circumstances in which they’d found themselves. His treatment of her while traveling together was beyond reproach.
His performance in the face of the tornado was exceptional. If she had been driving, she was positive the truck would right now be lying on its side. Her stomach clenched at the memory of the rear tire partly overhanging into the ditch. A few more inches and the trailer would have gone down, then the truck, and them along with it. The way he’d comforted the hysterical child had almost brought her to tears.
Lionel was a nice man, and she thanked God she had been teamed up with him. Things could have been a lot worse. They both agreed that no matter where in the country they were on Sunday morning, they would attend church together. If they weren’t near a big city with a church that had parking facilities to accommodate the truck and trailer, then they would hopefully find a small truckers’ chapel on the road wherever they were. Failing that, they had agreed to simply stop and have their own worship time, just the two of them, at the side of the highway, if necessary.
The clink of Lionel returning the cup to the saucer broke her out of her musings. “Actually, there is something I’ve got to talk to you about.”
Gwen cringed. They’d talked about so much in the time they’d spent together. Some personal, some not. About family and preferences. Lifestyles. Their faith and beliefs. Considering the amount of time they’d been together, there wasn’t much silence in the truck. They’d used the CB radio only a few times because they’d talked about so many interesting and important things, they didn’t need the meaningless chatter with strangers.
Tonight they would be at their destination, and their critical trip would be at an end. She didn’t like the serious tone of his voice, because it gave her a feeling he was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.
“Why don’t you ever use the cruise control? At first I could see why, what with you being a new driver and all, but really, it’s great once you get used to it. I know it feels funny not using your feet when you drive, but it saves a lot on fuel. We would save money if you used the cruise control.”
Cruise control? All she had been able to think about for the past few hours was the way he’d kissed her and how good she felt in his arms, and what the next few days of driving together would be like. She couldn’t believe he was thinking about gas mileage.
Gwen shook her head. “You’ve got cruise control on your truck? You’re kidding, right?”
“You didn’t know? I use it all the time. Certainly you’ve seen me engage it. Or Chad, when he uses his.”
“Uncle Chad never showed me cruise control. I didn’t know you could even get cruise control put on a truck.”
“It was an option when I bought the unit, and it was a good decision.”
“I’ve never noticed you turning it on. Or maybe I did and didn’t realize what you were doing. I didn’t know you’d be concerned about fuel economy in a big thing like that.”
“Especially in a big thing,” he emphasized the words, “like that. Driving a truck is a business, and it’s important to minimize expenses. We go through 220 gallons of diesel fuel a day. It’s an expense that adds up quickly.”
“I think someone should invent a solar-powered diesel engine.”
He shook his head at her inane statement. “Do you know what you just said?”
“You know what I meant.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Unfortunately, I think I do.”
She wanted to ask what he meant, but the waitress delivered their meals. After a prayer of thanks, Lionel checked his watch. “We’d better eat and get going quickly. Even though we’ve had some down time, if we hurry we can still make it before midnight.”
As instructed, Lionel used his cell phone to call the factory when they were an hour away.
Unlike the rest of their trip, much of this portion was made in silence. Gwen hadn’t said much since they left the truck stop, so neither had he. To fill the void of silence, he’d turned on the radio. The news reported minor structural damage to some homes and businesses, and as the man from one of the cars during their brief encounter with the tornado had said, there were only a few minor injuries, and that was it.
Apparently life was back to normal.
Except Lionel didn’t know what normal was anymore.
He felt a certain satisfaction knowing they had done a good job as a team to deliver their payload as quickly and efficiently as possible, but that also meant their journey was over. He didn’t want to think about what came next.
When they reached the city limits, he pulled out the paper with the directions he’d been given on the phone and directed Gwen through the outskirts of the city to the industrial area.
While they waited for a traffic light that was only a few blocks away from their destination, Gwen turned to him. “Are you sure you’re not going to be embarrassed about this?”
Lionel blinked. “Embarrassed? What for? We’ve made great time.”
She turned her head forward. “That you’re a passenger and that a woman is driving.”
The light turned green, so she started moving the truck forward.
He grinned. “Not as embarrassed as you’re going to be.”
“Me? I don’t care about being seen driving a truck. That’s what I planned to do all summer.”
He raised his arms and linked his fingers behind his head as he leaned back in the seat. “I know. But in four minutes you’re going to have to back the trailer into the loading bay.”
“Uh … back up?”
“You know. Driving backwards. Going in reverse to maneuver the trailer through a teeny little tunnel-like path to the warehouse door so they can unload their machinery, while at an angle, judging from the age of this complex. The only way to see what you’re doing is by looking in the mirror. In the dark. Plus you have to match the trailer door to the warehouse door within inches. Don’t forget, you’ve got to get it straight.”
“Oh dear. I’m not very good at backing up. When I first started this, I thought it would be just like backing the tent-trailer into the campsite, but on a larger scale. It turned out to be not as easy as I thought.”
“Most beginning drivers practice backing up a load at the truck stops where there’s lots of room. I did when I first got my license.”
“I haven’t had that kind of time. I haven’t practiced at all except for the minimum needed to pass my test.”
“I also spent a little time doing a temporary stint doing yard shunt work, so I’m better at backing up than most long-haul drivers. I’m open to bribery. I’ll back it in for you. For the right price.”
When no answer was forthcoming, Lionel wondered if he should duck to avoid flying objects.
Fortunately for him, she slowed and stopped in front of a gate, where a security guard used a radio to announce their arrival, then pointed them in the direction of the shipping/receiving area.
Just like many industrial areas in the older sections of various cities, this was exactly what he’d expected. When the neighborhood was designed, the distance between the buildings and property lines and fences had considered only the five-ton trucks and smaller trailers. In the olden days, most shipping areas had been designed for a maximum trailer length of forty-five feet, which was the longest standard trailer length at the time. Then in the early 1990s the standard had changed to forty-eight-foot trailers, and not long after that, the new standard size had become fifty-three feet, which was what they were pulling. In a tight area like this, those eight feet made a big difference, especially for a beginner.
He opened his mouth to volunteer to switch places and back it in for her, but she spoke first.
“Okay, I give. What’s the right price for you to back it in? Quick, before they notice.”
He opened his mouth to say the first thing that popped into his mind, but stopped himself in time. He had almost said he would back the trailer in for a kiss. “I’ll think of something later. Let’s trade places.”
Because of her height, he didn’t have to adjust the seat, and they switched drivers in seconds flat. A man appeared at the driver’s door, and Lionel rolled down the window to talk to him. He calculated the distance to where the man was pointing, shifted into reverse, jackknifed the unit as he backed up to get around the corner, and backed in. They both hopped out, and he cranked down the landing legs while Gwen locked the trailer brakes and unhooked the air lines. When they got the signatures for delivering the load in good order and all was settled, he and Gwen hopped back into the truck and exited the compound. Again, Gwen was driving.
“We did it.” He could hear the pride in her voice. It wasn’t her first trip, because she’d already been out once with Chad, but this was her first doubles run, and it had been a dandy. It was his first-ever doubles run as well, one he would never forget.
“We make a good team. I think we must have done it in record time.”
“What now?”
Lionel flattened the map in his lap and pulled his flashlight out of the glove box. “We go to the terminal at Evansville and report in, turn in the paperwork, and book off until the next load.”
Just the thought of booking off for a sleep made him yawn. “Sorry,” he said, making no effort to cover his mouth. She’d probably seen him do far worse already, and he simply didn’t have the energy left to be polite. He’d been driving for twelve days without any time off, and the last few weren’t exactly at a normal pace. He’d been getting less sleep than usual, and the pattern they’d fallen into had him going down for the night around midnight. It was nearly one in the morning. “I figure it will take about an hour to get to the terminal building from where we are.” He yawned again.
“Why don’t you have a nap? I’ve got a good memory. I’m a teacher, remember. Read me the directions, and I’m sure I can find my own way there.”
Lionel started to fight another yawn, but gave up; after all, there was no point. “I think I’ll do that,” he said through his yawn. “Don’t be afraid to open the curtain on me. I’ll just kick off my sneakers and lie down just like this for a short nap. Wake me up when we get there. See you in an hour.”
At her nod, he went to the back, pulled down the bunk, crawled in, and pulled the lightest blanket over his shoulders. He couldn’t remember his pillow being so soft or the motion of the truck being so soothing.
He knew he was falling asleep with a smile on his face. They delivered their load in good time, Gwen was driving, and all was fine.
“Lionel? Lionel? Wake up.”
Slowly he opened one eye, then the other one. Gwen’s face above him slowly came into focus. “Are we there already?”
She smiled, and he smiled back. She was smiling at him. He closed his eyes again to help him remember this moment.
She grabbed his shoulder and started shaking him. “Wake up!”
His eyes sprang open, but he grabbed his pillow and rolled his face into it to filter out the light. “Five minutes …,” he mumbled and closed his eyes again.
In the back of his mind, something wasn’t connecting. Something was wrong, different than it should have been.
He sat up with a jolt and blinked repeatedly. It was daylight.
“Why did you let me sleep so long?” The entire truck shook at the same time as a thud sounded. “What’s going on?” Instead of hearing trucks, he heard the grinding of what he thought might be conveyors and the clanking of machinery. “Where are we?”
“I think we should talk.”
Since the curtain was wide open, he looked forward out the front window of the cab. Not only was it daylight, but they weren’t at the truck terminal anymore.
Gwen’s cheeks darkened. “We’re going back to Kansas.”
“Kansas? What are you talking about?”
“It kind of happened like this. You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t have the heart to wake you, so I took the paperwork into the terminal myself. I asked about how I was getting home, now that this big rush is over. I thought maybe I could fly home, but they said they have another rush load, and their own drivers are already dispatched out, so he gave it to us. It’s a short hop back to Kansas for a doubles team. I thought about what you said about getting fired if you refused a load. I didn’t want to take the chance that they could fire you because of me, so I accepted it. That’s where we are now, we’re at a roofing place. We’re taking a load of shingles to repair a church roof. The owner of the business is donating them. Seems the pastor there is an old friend. He wants them delivered as soon as possible. I left you to sleep and we’re at the shingle place now. I didn’t even do too bad a job of backing it up myself. They directed me to a big wide open loading area, so it didn’t matter that it was a little crooked. I thought I’d wake you up and tell you what was happening before the noise and shaking woke you up.”
“Let me get this straight. You accepted a load, drove there, and they’re loading the trailer right now.”
“Yes. You won’t believe what happened. While you were sleeping, for the first time I got to be part of a real convoy.”
All he could do was blink and stare at her.
“It was so much fun! I always wondered how trucks could go in such tight formation like that. Uncle Chad and I traveled with other trucks, but this was the first time I’ve been with more than three at a time. But now I was part of a real convoy! And I was driving all by myself! I think there were ten trucks all together in the line. We chatted on the CB and everything.”
“But—”
“Now I know how they do it. Courtesy, and signaling. I closed in on the truck ahead of me, signaled left, and then pulled out into the passing lane and sped up. There wouldn’t have been room for the length of the truck in between any in line when I wanted to get back, but all I had to do was signal right, and the truck I wanted to get in front of just flashed his brights to let me know he’s going to fall back, and he was ever-so-nice and let me in.”
“When—”
“And I made sure to double click on my turn signal to say thanks because Uncle Chad said to always do that. I’m never going to feel the same when I get back home and I’m driving my car.”
“I—”
“Some people are such selfish morons behind the wheel of a car. It would be so nice if everyone could drive like those truckers. I don’t know why people have to be so aggressive and nasty and risk their lives to get ahead by fifteen seconds. But anyway, here we are, almost ready to go with our next priority load. Were you going to say something?”
Lionel buried his face in his palms. “I was going to book off for a day before I accepted another trip. I’ve been driving for twelve days, and I need a break.”
“I know, but I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little after seven in the morning. We’re not far from the terminal, don’t worry. If there’s something I forgot, we can go back on our way to Kansas.”
He raised his head and checked his watch. “I went to sleep at one. What have you been doing for six hours?”
“Don’t forget, it took an hour to get to the terminal after you fell asleep. I checked for E-mail, and I got a message from Garrett and Robbie. They said my mom’s cherries are all ready, and they’re all eating more than usual without me there. Garrett reminded me that I missed the strawberries. They’re all gone now too.”
“Never mind the fruit from the back yard. What have you been doing all this time?”
“It took me an hour to get here from the terminal.”
“That’s two. What about the other four hours?”
“I went into the lunchroom.”
“By yourself?”
“I wasn’t alone. There were all the other drivers going in and out. Lots of them sat for awhile and talked to me. The graveyard shift foreman sat with me for awhile, and we talked too. Some of the warehousemen came in every once in awhile to talk to me, but I don’t think they were supposed to do that. Everyone was really nice. Although, I didn’t get any time to read my book. I don’t think it’s ever taken me this long to finish a book in my life.”
Lionel flopped down on his back and stared at the ceiling. First she’d participated in a convoy, and now she’d gone into a building full of truck drivers and night shift warehousemen, a gorgeous woman all by herself. Of course she hadn’t had a minute alone.
“They bought me coffee and everything. Some of them even offered to share their lunches, since I couldn’t get to the fridge because you were sleeping. They were all so nice.”
“I’ll bet they were.”
“Since you’re awake, you might as well come with me. There are a few men here who invited me to come into the lunchroom while I wait for them to finish loading the shingles. They’re really nice too. I told them my driving partner was sleeping in the truck. They suggested I leave you alone, but I thought it best to wake you up.”
Lionel slapped his hands over his eyes and groaned. “You did the right thing. Let’s go join them for coffee.”
They made good time on the road, although driving alongside the tourists in the daytime slowed them down to some degree. They finally reached their destination mid-afternoon. Gwen promised Lionel they would book off for a day, no matter what, so they could both catch up on some much-needed sleep. She could feel the effects of three short nights’ sleep in a row herself. Knowing how tired he was after being away from home for so long made her almost feel guilty about accepting the load, but she had had to make a decision. She would have felt guiltier if he’d lost his job because of her.
Gwen read the directions to Lionel as he drove through the small town. They headed into an older district in the town’s core, where the homes were smaller and—one thing Gwen would never have noticed before she started driving a truck—the roads were narrower.
“It should be just after the next left.”
They approached a rectangular old church building. Dark green bushes dotted with red flowers stood on either side of the front doors. They appeared to be in better condition than the building. The white slatboard walls were peeling in sections, and the short steeple was peeling more than the rest of the building. It didn’t have a cross on it, but the sides were open, indicating a bell inside. Gwen wondered if they actually rang the old bell on Sunday morning and what it would sound like. Orange tarps covered sections of the roof, and the parking lot was empty except for one small car and a huge blue disposal bin.
Lionel drove carefully into the parking lot, going slowly over the old cracked surface.
“What’s your church like at home?” he asked.
Gwen looked at the tattered building. “It’s nothing like this. The church I go to at home is huge. The building is only about fifteen years old and very modern, inside and out. I’ve always appreciated a classic old building, although this one is more classic than most.”
They walked inside and found their way to the pastor’s office. A man close to retirement age sat behind a very cluttered desk, talking on the phone. The room wasn’t much bigger than the desk. He motioned them to a couple of chairs and they squeezed into the limited space while he ended his call.
“Welcome! I’m John Funk, the pastor of this humble place. What can I do for you?”
Lionel stood and returned the pastor’s handshake. “We’ve got a load of shingles for you, Pastor Funk. They’re from a friend of yours in Indiana.”
John Funk pumped Lionel’s hand faster. “Praise the Lord! The roof wasn’t in very good shape as it was, but the wind and hail finished it off. Those shingles are an answer to prayer. Please, call me John.”
Lionel nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Pastor John. I’m Lionel, and this is Gwen.”
Gwen shook the man’s hand in turn.
Pastor John checked his watch. “You’re here much earlier than I ever hoped you would be, and I appreciate it. You must be hungry. Would the two of you like to be my guests for dinner?”
Gwen shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I know my pastor at home is always having people over for dinner, and I don’t know how his wife does it on short notice. But thanks for the offer.”
Pastor John smiled warmly. “Your pastor at home? So you’re a believer? Praise the Lord. About that dinner, I happen to know it’s leftover turkey dinner, and there’s lots.”
Gwen opened her mouth to decline, but before she spoke, she turned to Lionel. At the mention of turkey dinner, his whole face lit up. She imagined he didn’t get many home-cooked meals and, of those he did, probably very few were full turkey dinners, first day or leftovers.
She knew his answer without asking.
“Thank you, that would be lovely. We’d be delighted to join you for dinner. But only if it’s no trouble for you or your wife.”
“I’ll phone and check, but I know what the answer will be. I’ve been married to the same woman for thirty-seven years, and I’d like to think I know her reactions. Just don’t tell her she’s predictable.”
The phone call yielded exactly the results he’d expected. While Pastor John locked up the church, Lionel locked up the truck. Within minutes they stopped in front of a small white slatboard house. Rather than fences, evergreen hedges separated the yards, the twisted old shrubbery denoting the age of the wellestablished and well-kept older neighborhood.
A gray-haired woman dressed in jeans and a bright green T-shirt waited in the doorway. “Welcome, Lionel and Gwen. I’m Freda. You don’t know how much it means to have those shingles here so soon. John can get started on some of it tonight. Hopefully it will be done in a few days and we’ll be ready for the next rain.”
“A few days?” Gwen asked. “Why do you think it’s going to take that long? It’s not that big a building. You don’t mean you’re going to do it all by yourself?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a small congregation. Today is Friday, so everyone is at work. They have their own messes to clean up and repairs to make on Saturday. I won’t ask anyone to work on the church roof on Sunday. I doubt most of them are aware of the extent of the damage to the old roof. But it will get done.”
Gwen looked at Lionel, and Lionel looked at her. They both raised their eyebrows and nodded at the same time.
Lionel turned back to Pastor John. “We’ve got a day here before we have to take another load out. If you’ve got a couple of extra hammers, we can help with the roof, and it will be done before Sunday morning.”
“I can’t ask you to do that. You’re not even a member of our congregation.”
Lionel glanced at Gwen and smiled. Her heart swelled with pride for him as he spoke.
“We’re all members of God’s congregation, no matter where in the world we live. If you’ve got hammers, you’ve got help.”
Gwen nodded. She didn’t want to be a burden, and she certainly didn’t want to sit and do nothing while Lionel worked during the short amount of time they had off. “I’m not too bad with a hammer either,” she said.
The Funks joined hands. “I don’t know what to say …,” Pastor John drawled.
Lionel grinned from ear to ear and patted his stomach. “Just say it’s supper time!”
Gwen elbowed him in the ribs. “That was delicate,” she muttered under her breath so only Lionel could hear.
He laughed and followed the Funks into the house.
After a prayer of thanks for the food, the gift of the shingles, and the unexpected help to install them, they enjoyed the wonderful meal Freda set before them. Not that the truck stop food had been bad, but it hadn’t taken long for Gwen to become tired of greasy fare, which made her consider the leftovers an extra special treat. Lionel ate with utter abandon, devouring everything on his plate as if it were a king’s meal placed before a starving man.
She nudged his ankle under the table. She had meant just to get his attention, but at the contact he froze, fork in midair, and stared at her. “Yes?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Gwen mumbled.
He obviously didn’t get the hint, because when Freda passed him more food, he gratefully accepted it.
Freda offered more to Gwen, but she shook her head. “This has been wonderful, but I’ve eaten so much. Thank you, I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“But I have homemade cherry pie for dessert.”
Gwen really was full, but she couldn’t refuse the kind woman. “Just a small piece would be lovely. Thank you.”
Lionel’s eyes lit up. “Homemade pie?”
Gwen couldn’t stand it anymore. When Pastor John rose to clear the table and Freda went to the counter to cut the pie, Gwen turned and whispered to Lionel. “I can’t believe you. You look like you haven’t seen food for a week. Aren’t you embarrassed?”
“Me? You should talk. You’re the one with the hollow leg. I eat like this once and you think it’s a big deal, but you’re the one who orders a second helping of fries at six in the morning.”
She was about to comment on the unique seasoning of the fries in question, when Freda returned and placed two plates of pie, topped with ice cream, in front of them. “So, where are you folks from?”
“We’re from Vancouver, Canada.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
“Yes, we are.”
“I hear it rains a lot there.”
Gwen smiled. “It rains a lot, but it’s not as much as people think it does. I really don’t mind the rain.”
Lionel harumphed beside her as he dug into the delicious homemade pie. “I hate the rain.”
Gwen took a nibble of her pie. “You were the one praying for rain just before we ran into the hail.”
“I never did.”
“You did so. You said that you wanted a little rain to break the heat.”
One eyebrow quirked. “I might have said that, but I certainly never prayed for it. You like rain so much, you probably prayed for it. You just won’t admit it.”
The sparkle in his eye gave his thoughts away. Even though she knew he was teasing and goading her to put her foot in her mouth, she was having too much fun to stop. Gwen opened her mouth to tell him that the reason they were caught in the storm was his fault, when she heard the older couple chuckling. She snapped her mouth shut and lowered her head to pick at the piece of pie in front of her.
Freda smiled and snickered. “Don’t mind us. As pastor and wife, we’ve seen a lot of marriages over the course of the years. More couples would benefit from this kind of friendly banter. How long have you two been married?”
Gwen felt her face heat up. She glanced at Lionel out of the corner of her eye, noting that he was also blushing.
Gwen delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “We’re not married.”
Freda’s cheeks reddened as well. “I just assumed … You’re traveling together …”
Lionel laid his cutlery down on his plate. “Gwen started driving with her uncle, but an emergency breakdown teamed us together on short notice. Since we’re driving team, the company sent us on another priority trip, which was your shingles. We actually just met at the beginning of the summer.”
Freda’s hands rose to her cheeks. “Oh!”
“Yes. I must say it was a surprise to both of us, but God was gracious to team us together as Christians. To tell the truth, this is the first time since we’ve been traveling together that we have some time off and don’t have to drive all night. I was wondering if you could recommend a motel nearby.”
Both of them stared at Lionel as he spoke. Gwen chose to keep silent. She knew what they were thinking.
Lionel’s ears flamed. “The motel room is for Gwen. I’ll be sleeping in the truck.”
Freda turned to Gwen. “Nonsense. You don’t have to get a motel. Please, be our guest in our home for the night. There’s just the two of us here, we have a spare bedroom. You’re more than welcome.” She stopped to smile, making Gwen think of how much of an art it was for the woman to recover her composure so quickly. “You’d be welcome even if you weren’t helping fix the roof of the church.”
Gwen noticed she didn’t offer for Lionel to also be a guest in their home, nor had Freda suggested that she take her to the motel after all and that Lionel stay in their guest room so he wouldn’t have to sleep in the truck.
She tried to think of a way to politely decline in favor of the motel, when Pastor John spoke.
“If you sleep here instead of across town at the motel, we’ll get an earlier start on the roof.”
Gwen smiled. “That would be lovely. Thank you. Now let me help with the dishes.”