Page 61 of Letters of Faith
“If you will open your bibles to Romans chapter 5, I would like to get started.”
There’s a rustle of paper as people flip through their bibles, looking for the page. Reaching into the inside pocket of my winter vest, I pull out the bible Georgia gave me so long ago. It was the first gift I had ever received from anyone but my mom, and even then, the gifts from her were few and far between. So when Georgia laid the bible in my hands that day, I couldn’t help but fall in love with her a little more.
I let my hands run over the smooth leather as I flip through the pages, looking for Romans, and when I finally find it, I glance up at Georgia. She’s staring at me with pure adoration shining in her eyes. And even though she hasn’t said it, I can’t help but feel like a man that’s loved. It’s a new feeling that doesn’t mesh well with the perpetual grump that I usually am.
“Before I read the scripture to you, I would like everyone to close their eyes and bow their heads as I lead us in prayer.”
Georgia bows her head, and I can’t help taking one more glance at the lingering smile on her face before I close my eyes.
“Dear Heavenly Father, we come here today to worship you and to lay it all at your feet. I pray that as we get into the service, this message from your word will reach the ones who need to hear it. Amen.”
Georgia’s hand is still on my knee, so with my bible in one hand, Iuse the other to scoop her hand up and link my fingers through hers, needing the contact.
“With a show of hands, how many of you have ever felt like the burdens you’ve been given in life are too much for you to bear?” Hands around me shoot up in the air as Pastor Greer steps down the stairs of the altar and stands in front of the congregation, studying each person as if he can see their pain.
I dip my head when he gets to me. The people I let see my pain are few and far between, and one of them is sitting beside me.
“Romans five verses one through four say, ‘Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope.’” He pauses there, letting the reading sit in, and it does—like a boulder in my stomach. Georgia’s hand tightens around mine, and she leans forward, bringing me with her as the pastor continues, “Now, I don’t know about you, but those verses send cold chills over my skin when I think about them. Not only does he offer us peace during our tribulations, but we stand within his grace. It doesn’t matter what we’ve done in our life—or how much we think we don’t deserve it—we have his grace. And those tribulations we’re going through—those storms we think we will never make it out of—teach us patience and can eventually lead us to one of the best places of our lives here on Earth. Maybe you can’t see it now because you’re in the eye of the storm, with the rain beating down all around you, but oh, when that storm breaks up, does he have a plan for you.”
Mrs. Adams gives a loud “Amen” and claps her hands, giving me a pointed look as she does—one that screams, “Are you listening, you fool? This is for you.”
The woman is the strangest person I’ve ever met, but she has a wayof seeing what you need and giving it to you with her own special twist. She sends me a wink, and I find myself growing fond of the old woman—despite her crazy.
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By the time the sermon ends, Georgia and I look like we’ve been through an emotional wringer. I’ve run my hands through my hair more times than I can count, causing it to look like I just rolled out of bed, and she has lines of mascara streaming down her face from the tears she cried.
As she stands, I tug on her hand and pull her to me, taking my thumb and wiping over the smudges under her eyes.
“You okay,” I ask, letting my hand trail down her face and over her shoulder until our fingers are interlaced.
“Mm–hmm. Or at least I will be. It hit a lot harder than I prepared myself for, but can we talk about it later? I’m going to talk to Ellie before we go,” she sniffs. “I’ll meet you outside, okay?”
I nod and watch as she walks away. Ellie throws her arms open as Georgia approaches and hugs her tightly. Georgia’s parents stand behind the pair, watching their daughter.
Sometimes, I wish I had been the guy Georgia deserved back in high school—the only one she’s ever loved because I’m selfish and want everything she is willing to give me. Watching her with Ellie, though, is another reason I know she needed Nate first. She won’t have a loving mother-in-law with me, and as for a father-in-law, well—who knows with Kip. I haven’t contacted him since the day he showed up at my house. It seems Brooks didn’t fall as far from that tree as he had hoped, but after Brooks’s visit with his family, there’s been a niggling in the back of my mind, making me debate reaching out—to both Brooks and Kip. Maybe it’s time I stop being so hard on the pair.
“It’s a scene worthy of a picture, isn’t it?” Harper asks, sarcasm oozing from her voice as she slides up alongside me. I look over ather, but she isn’t looking at me. She’s looking at Georgia wrapped in Ellie’s arms. Harper rolls her eyes when she sees Ellie caress her hand over Georgia’s hair.
“What is it this time, Harper? Jealous?”
The look she sends me is scathing.
“Of Georgia? Absolutely not.”
“Just bitter then,” I throw back.
She tilts her head, cocking one brow as her lips flatten into a mirthless smile.
“You’re one to talk—but I guess it’s worked out well for you—stealing your best friend’s girl and all. Tell me, Gray, how long did you wait after Nate was gone to go after Georgia?
She says my name was such condescension that it takes everything in me not to reach out, wrap my hands around her neck, and shake her until she gains a little bit of common sense.
Through my teeth, I grit out, “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Harper. Maybe you should worry about your own relationship for once.”
The insult is weak, but Harper has a way of digging under my skin and chopping at every nerve I have left. Part of that is because we’re too much alike, but the other part is because of the way she treats Georgia. I’ve chalked it up to jealousy over the years. Harper would have done anything to have her dad stick around so she could have the kind of family that Georgia does. Georgia’s mom may be tough, but she loves her. Neither of her parents walked out on her like she wasn’t good enough. That’s a pain that sticks with you—even after you find out it wasn’t true and they just didn’t know about you. Then Georgia started dating Nate, and all the attention that Nate used to give to Harper got split between the two. As a teenager whose dad walked out without a word, I can see how that would have been hard for Harper, but as a fully grown adult, it’s time she let go of grudgesthat aren’t there.
Her laugh is harsh as she flips her hair over her shoulder to look at me. The smile on her lips is poisoned with bitterness, and whatever arrow she’s about to shoot will be deadly.
