Chapter 13: Coffee Hour

Kendra told me she would do it on Sunday, in the church hall, at coffee hour.

"Not in private," she said. "In private Gail talks me out of it by the second cookie."

So on the Sunday after the baby came home, I stood at the back of St. Luke's in my one good dress, with my friend beside me and my body still sore.

My daughter was ten days old and home with Eli, who had said, "Go. I've got her," as if it were nothing.

I had never been inside Gail's church without her hand on my elbow.

Gail was in the front pew in her plum coat.

Ron sat beside her with his hat on his knee.

Travis sat on her other side, and he had not shaved.

I watched the back of his neck through the whole sermon.

He didn't know I was there.

Afterward the congregation poured down the hall to the long tables of coffee and sheet cake.

Gail stood at the head of the first table, pouring, and people stood in a line to be poured a cup by her.

"Gail, how is that new grandbaby?" a woman asked.

"Resting," Gail said. "Cassidy is having a hard time, poor thing. We pray for her every night."

I stood behind the woman with my paper cup.

Gail's eyes came up and found me.

She didn't stop pouring.

"Well," she said, bright. "Look who came."

Kendra walked in through the side door.

She had her daughter by the hand, in a green wool coat with a bow.

The girl saw Ron across the room and pulled loose.

"Grandpa R.!"

She ran at him, and Ron's whole face changed. He caught her under the arms and lifted her without thinking, and she put both arms around his neck.

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