Page 43 of Betsy
“What else?” I placed my elbows on my knees, eager to learn more. I was the student, and while Betsy was the teacher, she was also the subject matter. One day, I’d ace this test.
Her head tilted to the side as she thought. “Eat twelve grapes before midnight on New Year’s Eve. For every grape, you make a wish. One grape and one wish for each month of the year.”
“I have a cousin who lives in Georgia that says you have to eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s to bring luck and good fortune for that year. I think I’d rather eat the grapes.”
“You guys ready to keep going?” Jimmy called from the bottom of the platform.
I stood and held out my hand to help Betsy up. To my surprise, she slid her fingers across mine and allowed me to pull her to standing. I gave a gentle squeeze before letting go.
“Careful of your step,” she warned as she shuffled her way to the risers to descend off the stage. “I brought some anti-slip tape that we can put on the bottom of everyone’s shoes so we don’t have any mishaps this evening. The last thing we want is for Dave to slide headfirst into his drums or you to reenact a stooge on a banana peel and fall on your guitar.”
“Well, aren’t you Little Miss Prepared for Anything,” I said, impressed. I’d have never thought to pack something like that. Wouldn’t even cross my mind in a million years.
“I try to be.” She got a funny look on her face as she turned away. “And yet I keep finding myself not prepared at all,” she said as if to herself.
She wasn’t talking about the concerts or what might arise because of the performances.
She was talking about me.
17
Betsy
“Hey, Jimmy.” I reached out a hand and caught the keyboardist’s arm as he made to pass me in the hall. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
I looked up and down the hall. No one else was around, but I didn’t want our conversation to be overheard. Not that I felt guilty or thought I was doing anything wrong, just…I didn’t want Asher to know I was asking about him.
I felt behind me, and my fingers connected with a door knob. Twisting the handle, I opened the door and took a step backward into the room, motioning for Jimmy to follow me with a flick of my head.
His forehead creased more than the khaki pants he was wearing, but he stepped into the children’s room that had been designated for Tricia’s and my use.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No, no, everything is fine,” I assured him. “I just had some questions. About Asher.”
The horizontal lines running between his eyebrows and hairline deepened. “What about him?”
I shrugged and arranged my face into my normal, nonchalant, couldn’t-care-less expression. “Where did you two meet?”
“At church. He’s been working with the praise team there for years.”
I nodded like this was new information. “How did the band come together?”
Jimmy let out a single punctuation of laughter as he relaxed into a smile. “I don’t know. We were talking one day after services. I was sharing with him some struggles my wife and I were having with Marcus, and he asked if Marcus was interested in music at all.” Jimmy casually hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Marcus wasn’t really interested in anything at the time. Or if he was, he never shared it with Doreen or me. Anyway, Asher came to the house the next day and challenged Marcus to a competition on Guitar Hero—you know, the video game? They were in the basement playing for hours. I don’t know what Asher said to Marcus, but he came back the next day with a bass guitar and taught my son how to play. I dusted off my keyboard, and everything else sort of just fell into place after that.”
I nodded some more.¡Caray!Just call me a bobblehead. “That seems very…magnanimous of Asher.”
“He’s a generous person.”
I made a humming noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Not entirely altruistic on his part though, right? I mean, it’s you and Marcus who’ve had to make the sacrifices to be here. Away from your wife. Time off of work. Marcus juggling school responsibilities and commitments while figuring out his future.”
Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. His steady gaze made me want to squirm away, but I held myself still.
“I see what you’re doing,” he said, bemusement smoothing out the lines around his mouth.
I cocked my hip. “And what do you think I’m doing besides asking a few simple questions?”
