The next day was Sunday, which meant we all got up early to get ready for church. Marissa just about had a cow when she saw me in jeans and a baton-down shirt.
“Don’t you have to wear a suit to church?” she asked. I smiled and shook my head.
“Suit?” I asked. “No one wears a suit to church here, not unless it’s a wedding or a funeral.”
I helped my mother load up the bags that held her contribution to the after-service potluck lunch, then the three of us climed in the truck and headed for church. Marissa seemed nervous, but my mother was able to calm her down before we got there.
Bob was standing outside, greeting everyone as they came to the door. His face lit up when he saw me pull in with Marissa and my mother. He ran to the truck and gave me a manly bear hug, slapping my back.
“Jim, how are ya, boy?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear.
“Doing good, Bob,” I said. “How are you?”
“Still upright,” he said smiling. He went to Marissa. “And you must be Marissa,” he said. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
“It’s good to meet you, uh, Pastor Bob,” she said. He laughed.
“Please, just call me Bob,” he said. “We’re all family here. I just happen to be a pastor.” He walked to my mother. “Ginny,” he said, hugging her. “Let me carry that in for you,” he added, grabbing the bag that held the food she brought. Bob and my mother headed inside. I looked at Marissa and saw her staring at the cross on the church steeple. I took her hand.
“It’s okay, babe,” I said. “Really. Everyone here is like family. C’mon, let’s go inside.” She looked at me and nodded. We walked in, and I couldn’t help but notice that she purposefully stepped around the shadow of the cross on the ground.
Several people greeted us as we went inside and they all welcomed Marissa like they would anyone else. One of the ushers sat us in the pew where my mother always sat. After a couple minutes, my mother joined us and soon, the doors were closed and the service was underway.
It was a simple service, nothing like you’d expect in those big-city churches. Old man Belkin played the piano as Bob and a few of the church ladies led us in a few songs from the hymnal. Then Bob began as he always did, welcoming everyone to the Sunday service before passing along a few announcements.
From there, he began his teaching, reading a few verses before explaining them as he always did, with a few jokes thrown in for good measure. I noticed several times he seemed to glance straight at Marissa with a look I couldn’t read. It was almost as if he could see something no one else could. I glanced at her once and for a second, I thought her eyes had a red hue to them.
After about a half hour, he wrapped up his message and called the “choir” back up for a final song. Afterward, he invited everyone to stay for the potluck with a warning that, “if ya leave here hungry, it’s yer own fault.”
We all got up and filed outside. Marissa seemed to be relieved to be out of the building.
“See,” I said. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked. She smiled and shook her head.
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