Page 8 of To Bring You Back
“A nice upright bass is expensive. Besides, it needs regular service to stay in working order, so selling it will save money.”
“Oh. Okay.” Tegan slid the letter onto the table. “I always thought the bass was special to you, like you inherited it or something.”
Tegan thought the bass was an heirloom? In a way, maybe. Both the bass and her connection with Gannon were an inheritance from her former self that she couldn’t afford to keep, no matter what her feelings told her.
3
The last character of the Hebrew verse on Gannon’s forearm was visible if someone looked for it, but his button-down covered the other ink that might give away his identity. He cleaned a pair of non-prescription glasses with the hem of his shirt before sliding them on.
Tim, who’d added a tie to his usual dress shirt, seemed intent on fitting in at the small church, even if his silence served as a complaint about giving up his Sunday morning for something he didn’t believe in.
They mounted the stairs to the door, and Gannon reached for the handle. “You don’t have to come.”
Tim grunted and shadowed him into the building. He considered knowing the band’s secrets part of his job. Since Gannon still hadn’t told him more about Adeline, his manager was sticking close, probably hoping to piece it together.
At least this meant Tim would overhear a sermon.
The service already in motion, Gannon snagged a seat in the back without turning heads. He’d lost Tim somewhere along the way, probably in the tiny lobby.
Vestibule. The word hadn’t crossed his mind in ages, but a room that smelled like a one-hundred-year-old hymnal deserved the name.
Musicians took the stage to lead worship—three singers, a flutist, and a violinist. No Adeline. This was the only church in town that lined up with the beliefs they’d shared as teens. If she was present, why wasn’t she on stage too? Back in the day, she’d been as passionate about bass as he’d been about guitar.
The first song started, and he fumbled open the hymnal. His home church was more contemporary, but the old songs were a blessing; focusing on the unfamiliar words meant setting aside thoughts of Adeline.
When the sermon ended and the pastor began the closing prayer, the old carpeting muffled Gannon’s footsteps out of the sanctuary. Tim pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against in the vestibule, and they advanced toward the exit, but the sound of children’s voices turned Gannon’s head.
A class of toddlers climbed the stairs from the lower level, perhaps to meet their parents in the lobby. Among them, three adults shepherded and hushed their young charges. A small girl in a purple poof of a dress held hands with Adeline.
Spotting him, Adeline froze. Her initial surprise drained to something less welcoming.
The little girl mounted the next step, then turned back to look at her guide.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Tim’s voice came from over his shoulder, but the man didn’t grab Gannon to pull him from the building.
And that was what it would’ve taken.
Gannon had been jealous of Fitz from the day he’d met Adeline. The two had already been dating a while when Fitz volunteered her to play bass guitar with the band. When Awestruck made plans to move to California and Adeline’s parents forbade her from joining them, Gannon had hoped the distance would mean the end for Fitz and Adeline. Instead, the couple had seemed determined to last. Right before the band left, they announced their engagement.
Gannon had almost called off the move so he could stay, lay out his feelings, and change her mind about marrying someone else. But surely Adeline had known what she was doing. She was Fitz’s girl, and because of it, Gannon should’ve known to stay away from her that Christmas he visited home from LA. But he hadn’t, and he couldn’t walk away now either, though frustration pursed her lips and narrowed those big brown eyes.
The little girl tugged her hand, and Adeline’s expression softened as she dropped her focus. A lock of hair, which looked as silky as the last time he’d touched it, slid over her shoulder as she helped the toddler up the last of the steps.
The other adults took over ushering the kids toward the sanctuary while Adeline’s gaze sharpened on him again. She kept her lips pressed shut until organ music trumpeted from the sanctuary. “You have a lot of nerve using church to get to me.”
Without waiting for a response, she pushed open the door to the front walk and exited. In a moment, she had cleared the area visible through the glass. If he followed her out, was he in for a lecture? Or would she already be gone? He sucked in a deep breath and followed.
Adeline, already ten feet down the walk, pivoted back toward him, arms crossed and eyes blazing. “Are you stalking me?”
Behind him, Tim guffawed.
“I need God as much as the next guy.”
“Even more.” She planted her feet. “But you shouldn’t be here.”
Maybe not. His relationship with Jesus didn’t depend on a church building or a sermon, and this confrontation hadn’t been part of the plan. He’d meant to be on the road back to Havenridge by now, leaving Adeline, if she noticed him, curious, maybe curious enough to reach out to him, see what he was doing here. Instead, he’d set her more firmly against him.
“I know you can’t see a reason, but we need to talk.”
