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Chapter 19

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Zoe

It was the weirdest church Zoe had ever seen. Granted, she’d only been in a few churches, but still. This one didn’t even look finished. Some of the walls had fresh paint, but some had hideous peeling wallpaper. Half the light fixtures were missing. In their place, bare wires dangled out of the ceiling.

On one side of the sanctuary, pews had been pushed up against each other to make room for the pallets and pallets of food stacked along the wall. Zoe had never seen so much food in one place. Had Gramma and her friends robbed a Walmart? And if so, why? Were they preparing for the apocalypse? Were Gramma’s friends preppers? “What’s with all the canned okra?”

“We’ve been asking for donations from grocery stores,” Gramma explained. “We take whatever they’re willing to give, including okra. And then we give it out to people in need.”

They would have to be in real need to eat canned okra. “That’s nice of you,” she said noncommittally. She did think it was nice, but she didn’t want to sound too impressed.

“It’s not us,” Gramma said quickly. “It’s all God.”

That was going to get annoying. She’d tried to give her a compliment, and she’d pointed to God. Fine, she wouldn’t give her any more compliments.

A giant hydraulic lift sat folded up along a different wall. This made sense, as she didn’t know how else these people were going to reach that sky-scraping ceiling—which, incidentally, was also only half-painted.

And there appeared to be a homeless man sitting in the back pew. He sat all alone singing to himself.

A few rows in front of him sat an absolutely gorgeous guy who looked about her age. She ripped her eyes away from him as the room filled with music. Her eyes followed the sound to an enormous pipe organ. Her mouth dropped open a little. She didn’t know an organ could sound like that. The beauty of it gave her a chill.

“Are you cold, dear?” Gramma asked.

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.”

“There are doughnuts and coffee back there.” Gramma pointed. “All different flavors. The doughnuts, not the coffees. Only one flavor of coffee, Folgers. Help yourself if you’d like some.”

Doughnuts of any flavor sounded spectacular, but she didn’t want to be wandering around the church alone.

“Want me to get you some?” a young voice asked.

Zoe scanned her surroundings to find it. It had come from the girl with two names. Bobby Jo? Bobby Sue? Something like that. She wasn’t sure how to answer that. “A doughnut would be good.”

“Great!” The girl whirled away from her.

Zoe followed Esther toward the front, hoping they weren’t going all the way to the first pew. She needn’t have feared, as they slid into the second pew. Awesome.

“Let me introduce you to some of my other friends. This is Cathy.”

A well-dressed, put-together woman offered her a handshake. This was the woman who’d bought her the ugly shirt she was currently wearing. Awesome. She shook her hand.

“And this is Barbara, and this is Vera.”

It seemed Vera hadn’t heard Gramma and ignored them both. This was fine with Zoe.

“And of course, you know Vicky.”

Ah yes, of course. Vicky, the petite woman who’d needed the front seat so the two women over six feet could sit in the back.

Doughnut Girl materialized beside her with a chocolate doughnut wrapped in a napkin.

“Wow, thanks,” Zoe said and meant it.

“No problem! Let me know if you need anything else! And welcome to our church!” She zipped away.

Zoe looked at her grandmother. “That girl sure does have a lot of energy.”

“Yes. The whole family is like that. I think it’s all the goat milk.”

What? Goat milk? Gross!

Cathy stepped up to the pulpit and cleared her throat. “Good morning! Welcome, welcome, welcome! We are so excited you are here! As most of you know, we have been praying mightily for a pastor, but he’s not here yet, so you’re stuck with me again.”

Some people behind Zoe tittered.

Zoe was glad they didn’t have a pastor yet. She liked the looks of Cathy. First, she reminded her of Zoe’s old junior church teacher. And second, if Zoe was going to have to listen to someone blather on about the Bible, she’d rather it be this woman than some stuffy suit.

“But first! Let’s sing a few songs. Rachel will be leading us.” She swept an arm toward the woman Zoe had shared a back seat with. Today, Rachel had on a gold-colored dress and an enormous, and enormously hideous, orange hat. It reminded Zoe of the vests that hunters wore. Maybe Rachel was going hunting after church. As if her ensemble wasn’t bad enough, a thick strand of chunky gold beads wrapped multiple times around her neck. It looked heavy. Zoe was surprised she could stand up straight under all that bling.

“Let’s start with one of my favorites!” Rachel was unnecessarily excited. “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee.” She turned and nodded toward the organ, but that woman wasn’t even looking at her. Nevertheless, she started to play, and people scrambled to find the song in their hymnals.

“Why didn’t she tell us the number?” Zoe mumbled, her mouth still full of chocolate doughnut.

“Can’t,” Esther explained, flipping madly. “We’ve got about ten different hymnals here.”

Zoe closed her eyes. This was the weirdest church in the world.