The Prodigal Comes Home (10 page)

K
ate knocked on the driver’s side window and Zoey rolled it down, although she was more than ready to be on her way.

Fellowship hour had seemed to last a lifetime. As the minutes crawled by, Zoey managed to keep a watchful eye on Gran while dodging Matt’s repeated attempts to talk to her.

Emma and Abby had brought their significant others over to the table Zoey had deliberately chosen in the corner of the fellowship hall, but their comforting presence hadn’t been able to deflect the whispers and the pointed stares aimed in Zoey’s direction.

Kate had disappeared for awhile, only to chase her down in the parking lot and delay her departure.

“I have a favor to ask.” Kate crossed her arms in the window frame. “But you can always say no.”

“No.”

Kate ignored that. “The youth group is holding our annual Bible Olympics tonight and I could really use an extra pair of hands. And eyes. I thought of you.”

“Why?” Zoey asked bluntly. She couldn’t wait to get away and now Kate was asking her to come back to the church—on purpose?

“Liz
might
have mentioned that you’re involved with the youth at your home church. And she might have mentioned that you missed it.” Kate didn’t sound the least bit guilty.

Zoey’s gaze swung to her grandmother. Liz returned her accusing look with a serene smile. Not a drop of guilt there either.

“It’s from six to nine,” Kate continued.

“I don’t know if I should leave Gran that long,” Zoey murmured.

“Delia is coming over this evening,” Liz chimed in. “So yes, ‘you can leave Gran that long.’”

Zoey was tempted to try and wiggle out of it, but she did miss the lively interaction with her “kids” in the senior high ministry. She had heard people claim that it took a special person to work with teenagers, but Zoey loved it.

She wasn’t intimidated by their tough questions, nor afraid of their doubts. Zoey had come to discover that both were a natural part of the journey. In the Psalms, David had poured out his heart to God and it had brought them into a closer relationship. Over the past few months, Zoey had found that to be true.

Kate lowered her voice. “There will be chocolate. Lots of it.”

“You don’t have to bribe me.”

“That wasn’t a bribe, it was a statement of fact.”

Either way, Zoey gave in. “I’ll be there.”

“Terrific. I’ll swing by your place on my way to the church.”

“You don’t have to pick me up, Kate.”

“Yes, I do. And I think you know why.” Kate flashed her trademark smile. “See you at six.”

After she’d gone, Zoey cast a sidelong glance at her grandmother. “Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving for a while?”

Liz had tried to hide it, but Zoey had noticed that she’d seemed a little short of breath as they walked to the car.

“I don’t expect you to stay with me every second of the day, sweetheart.” Liz waved aside her concern. “You need to get out once in awhile, too. I’ll be so busy trouncing Delia at Scrabble, I won’t even know you’re gone.”

Zoey, who’d been “trounced” in the game several times over the past few days, smiled at the description. “All right.”

Liz looked pleased. “You and Kate will get along fine. She’s a wonderful girl. I don’t think there’s a person around here who isn’t glad she decided to settle down in Mirror Lake. Most young people think small towns are dull.”

At sixteen, Zoey had certainly thought so. She had never understood why her grandparents chose to retire to such an isolated part of the state. Until now. There was something special about Mirror Lake. Something in Zoey’s soul that responded to the unspoiled beauty of the area and the unhurried pace of life. She only wished she had appreciated it sooner.

Matt stepped out of the church as Zoey put the car in gear.

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment. Today, in a charcoal-gray suit and a coordinating tie, he looked more like a pastor and less like the man in blue jeans who had tried to teach her Chopsticks. Unfortunately, her heart didn’t seem to care.

Matt pivoted slowly, scanning the parking lot as if he were looking for someone.

Zoey stepped on the gas. But she couldn’t prevent one last look in the rearview mirror.

Kate stood next to him. The redhead’s expression was animated, one of her hands waving in the air like the conductor of a symphony as she talked. The other one rested on Matt’s arm.

Were they a couple?

Zoey hadn’t considered the possibility until now. They were close in age. Kate’s lively temperament would mesh well with Matt’s outgoing personality. And like Gran had pointed out, the woman had earned the respect of an entire community. People looked up to her. Admired her.

If Matt decided to marry, Kate would be exactly the kind of wife he needed.

The kind of wife he deserved.

That evening, Matt pushed open the front door of the church and found himself transported to ancient Greece. Paper torches filled with red cellophane “flames” lined his path through a backdrop of cardboard painted to look like stone ruins.

The Bible Olympics. Ordinarily the teenagers invited Matt to join in the games, but tonight he’d had to honor another commitment.

Neil, a forty-two-year old father of three had just found out he had cancer. Neil’s wife had called Matt and asked if he would talk to her husband. She was a believer, but Neil thought that religion didn’t get a person anywhere.

Matt had agreed. He’d used that as a launching point to tell Neil that it was a personal relationship with Christ that made all the difference.

The evening had started out with Neil being angry with God. It had ended with Neil being angry with Matt.

They were meeting again the next day.

Voices drew him down the narrow hallway. After collecting a devotional book from his office, he decided to stop in and thank Kate and the rest of the volunteers for their help. The small but dedicated team of youth leaders freed him up to spend more time on the mentoring ministry.

As he reached the sanctuary, Matt glanced down and saw that one of the doors had been propped open with a tennis shoe. Judging from the size, it had to belong to one of the Davis brothers.

He stooped down to pick it up and heard a chorus of muffled groans from inside.

“I don’t like the songs we sing on Sunday morning. They’re boring,” one of the guys said.

“Boring, huh? Let’s see what we can do about that.”

Matt’s feet melted to the floor when he recognized Zoey’s voice. He pressed closer, trying to peer through the tangle of crepe paper vines and clusters of plastic grapes that decorated the narrow windows.

Zoey sat on the piano bench. In faded jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, her hair caught back in a colorful bandana, she could have passed for one of the teenagers gathered around her. “You remember the words to the praise song we learned tonight?”

Several heads bobbed up and down.

Matt couldn’t quite make out what Zoey said next, but the short silence that followed didn’t bode well for whatever she had suggested.

“All right.” Zach Davis, the unofficial spokesman of the youth group, finally spoke up. “We’ll try it.”

Just as Matt was debating whether or not to make his presence known, Zoey unwittingly made up his mind.

She began to sing “Amazing Grace.”

When Zoey reached the end of the first stanza, there was a brief hesitation and then some of the girls joined in with the chorus of a familiar worship song, encouraged by the competent sweep of Zoey’s fingers against the worn ivory keys.

Matt sagged against the wall.

Zoey played the piano. And she played it
well.

While he tried to wrap his mind around that, another thought jumped in.

What Zoey was doing shouldn’t have worked. The blending of two totally different songs. One an old but beloved hymn, the other a more contemporary praise chorus. Somehow, though, she’d connected the two and created something new. Something beautiful.

Zoey, who had turned into an ice sculpture in church that morning when she thought she would have to stand up in front of the congregation and say her name, didn’t appear the least bit self-conscious or hesitant now.

But that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

If Matt had questioned whether or not she had a close relationship with God, he saw the answer in her face now.

This wasn’t an experiment, a way to entertain a group of restless teenagers until their parents came to pick them up.

It was a reflection of something real. A song that wasn’t printed on a piece of paper, but one that had its origin in Zoey’s heart.

Matt had a feeling it was that, more than the music she had chosen, which encouraged their participation. How could a person
not
want to be a part of something so amazing?

The second time through, the teens’ confidence had swelled, encouraged by the music flooding the sanctuary. Shoulder to shoulder, the girls swayed in time with the beat. And the boys—the self-conscious teenage boys that usually spoke in a series of grunts—were clapping their hands.

Until Tim Davis spotted him.

“Hey, Pastor Matt.”

The music stopped abruptly and everyone turned to stare. Including Zoey.

“Hi, guys.” Matt pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and wandered in. “Where’s Kate?”

“She’s cleaning up the kitchen,” Morgan Peterson said.

“Zoey was teaching us a new song.”

“I heard.” He tried to catch Zoey’s eye, but her gaze remained fixed on the ivory keys now.

“Should I bring my guitar next week, Zoey?” The question came from Tim.

“You’ll have to ask Kate,” Zoey murmured.

Matt noticed the rigid set of her shoulders and knew he had ruined the moment.

“Ask Kate what?” Kate walked in, tugging at a wreath of plastic ivy perched on top of her head.

“If Zoey can help next week.”

“I’ll think of something else to bribe her with,” Kate dead-panned. “Okay, everyone. I promised your parents we would be done by nine. You don’t want me to get into trouble.” She grinned. “Again.”

Reluctantly, the kids gathered up their things, said their goodbyes and trooped out.

“What I heard sounded great, Zoey.” Kate swooped down to retrieve a piece of green crepe paper stuck to the bottom of her leather sandal.

“Thanks,” Zoey murmured.

“I didn’t realize you were going to be here tonight.” Matt was sure that after his colossal mistake this morning, Zoey would never show her face in church again.

Zoey didn’t answer.

Kate’s gaze bounced back and forth between them a few times. “Rachel couldn’t be here tonight so I convinced Zoey to take her place. I gave her a choice between leading worship time or kitchen duty.” Kate stifled a yawn. “I better take my own ad vice and head home. I have to be back at the cafe by 5:00 a.m. to make the pies.”

“I’m sorry I had to miss the Olympics tonight. You did a great job pulling things together,” Matt told her.

“I couldn’t have done it without Zoey. The kids loved her.” Kate shrugged her coat on. “Are you ready to go?”

“I can give Zoey a ride home,” Matt offered.

Two pairs of eyes swung in his direction.

Kate struggled against a smile. And lost. “Really? Are you sure it’s no trouble?”

“We do share a yard. It makes sense.” Was it Matt’s imagination, or did he sound a wee bit defensive?

“Oh, you’re right. It makes
perfect
sense.” Kate looked at Zoey. “Stop by the cafe tomorrow, okay? There will be a caramel apple pie with your name on it.”

“That’s not necessary,” Zoey protested. “I enjoyed working with the youth.”

“Did you hear that, Pastor? She
enjoyed
working with the youth. I want to clone her.” Kate hoisted a purse the size of a small suitcase over her shoulder. “I could use your help again next Sunday night, Zoey. Think about it.”

“I will.” Zoey wore the slightly dazed expression of everyone who came into direct contact with Kate.

“Great. See you next time!” The hem of Kate’s white robe fluttered like the wings of a tiny shorebird as she rushed from the room.

Leaving them alone.

“You know how stupid I feel right now, don’t you?”

The softly spoken words fused Zoey to the piano bench. What she really wanted to do was disappear through the floor. She should have known Matt would see through Kate’s not-so-subtle attempt at matchmaking. “I know. I’m sorry—”

“Chopsticks.” Matt slid in beside her.

“W-what?”

He shifted his position and the movement brought them even closer. Close enough for Zoey to see flecks of gold mixed in the green and brown palette of his eyes. “I tried to teach Mozart how to play Chopsticks.”

Zoey’s cheeks turned pink. “I’m no Mozart.”

Matt’s eyebrow lifted. “Care to tell me why you kept this talent a secret?”

Zoey peeked at him from under her lashes. “You asked me if could play like you did and I said no…”

Matt threw back his head and laughed. “Because there’s no way you could mangle Chopsticks like I did. You told the truth. I get it.”

Zoey’s heart got tangled up in his laughter. All Matt had to do was enter the room and it seemed to get brighter. But they were here alone. Anyone could walk in and find them…Zoey refused to be the one to cast a shadow on his reputation.

“What I heard was incredible, Zoey.” Matt stared down at her. “And the song you played for the youth group…where did you hear that? I’ve never heard anything like it.”

“That’s probably because I made it up,” Zoey inched away from him and bailed off the other side of the bench. “I really should get home. Delia is keeping Gran company tonight, but she wanted to be home by nine.”

She tried to scoot ahead, but Matt managed to catch up to her. He opened the passenger door of the truck and Zoey felt the soft press of his hand against the small of her back as she vaulted into the cab.

The door closed and Zoey stared out the window, grateful Matt couldn’t see the effect he had on her. The slightest touch created a shower of sparks that lit up every nerve ending in her body like a Fourth of July sparkler.