Sherryl Woods - Flirting With Disaster

“Thanks for looking after things,” Maggie said, meaning it. “I really appreciate the way you pitched in.”

“Sure. No problem. You know me. I can always use the extra cash.” Ellie’s expression brightened. “But I did sell two of my paintings while you were gone.”

Maggie beamed at her. What Ellie lacked in business skills, she more than made up for as an artist. “Congratulations! I told you it was only a matter of time. I think we should talk about having a real show one of these days. You’re ready for it, don’t you think?”

Ellie’s joy faltered. “Maybe you should come by the studio and take a look before you decide,” she suggested worriedly. “Maybe there aren’t enough good paintings yet. I don’t want you to be embarrassed.”

“You could never embarrass me. You’re the most talented artist I’ve discovered yet,” Maggie assured her with total sincerity. “I can’t wait to really give your work a big splashy show. Why don’t I come by one evening after we close and take a look. Then we can decide. I’d love to schedule something for this fall.”

“Really?” Ellie said, her eyes shining.

“Sweetie, you’re going to be showing in the Museum of Modern Art in New York before you know it, and I’m going to be bragging that I knew you when.”

“Don’t even tease about that,” Ellie said, bright spots of color in her cheeks.

“Who’s teasing? Don’t you know how good you are?” She could see by Ellie’s doubtful expression that she did not. “Don’t worry. You’ll see. I promise you.”

In fact, seeing Ellie’s career take off the way a few of Maggie’s other discoveries had before her was exactly the kind of achievement that kept Maggie in business. It was reassuring to know that in one area of her life, her judgment was impeccable.

There were at least forty people milling around in the church parish hall when Josh arrived there on Saturday morning. A long folding table was loaded down with a coffee urn, pottery mugs and trays of doughnuts and pastries. He wasn’t convinced there was enough caffeine or sugar in the world to get him through the weeks to come, but he filled a cup to the brim and grabbed a couple of glazed doughnuts before going in search of Cord.

He found him in an alcove, deep into what sounded like a very serious conversation with an unfamiliar man. Josh was about to back away when Cord spotted him.

“Hey, there you are,” Cord called. “Josh, get over here and let me introduce you to Caleb Webb. He’s the minister here and the driving force behind this project.”

Surprised, Josh took another look at the man dressed in worn jeans and a polo shirt. He didn’t look like any preacher Josh had ever known. For one thing, he was built as if he’d been working construction all his life. For another, he was young. Certainly no older than Josh’s age, thirty-four.

The few preachers Josh had encountered in his brief brushes with religion had all been old and mostly crotchety. They’d spent a lot of time talking about fire and brimstone, which had been pretty scary stuff to a kid. Caleb looked like someone you could enjoy a beer with at the end of the day. He also didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d try to frighten a youngster into behaving.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Josh told them. “I just wanted to let Cord know I was here.”

“Not a problem,” Cord assured him. “Caleb was just filling me in on a couple of problems that have cropped up.”

Josh should have guessed this project wouldn’t be the picnic Cord had promised him. “What kind of problems?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Caleb assured him. “I just have a little rebellion in the ranks among my parishioners. Some of them don’t approve of what we’re doing. It’s gotten a little ugly, but I’ll get it straightened out.”

“Ugly in what way?” Josh asked, trying to imagine why anyone would disapprove of building a home for someone in need.

Caleb gave him a wry grin. “There’s a camp that thinks I ought to be run off for doing this for Amanda O’Leary. They’re very vocal.”

Josh didn’t get it. He looked blankly from Caleb to Cord. “Okay, what am I missing here?”

It was Caleb who responded. “I assume Cord filled you in on Amanda’s situation.”

Cord nodded. “I know her husband was killed a while back.”

“It was more than that,” Caleb said. “He’d gotten himself into serious debt and she was forced to declare bankruptcy. She’s been working two, sometimes three, jobs to try to pay off all the bills. She was about to be evicted from her apartment when we stepped in. At first we were just going to help out with the rent, which we did, but then someone had the idea to build her a house. Most of the congregation jumped on board, but a few people think we’ve picked the wrong person to help.”

“Why?” Josh asked.

“Because Amanda’s daddy is William Maxwell,” Cord explained. When Josh shook his head, Cord added, “Big Max is one of the wealthiest men in Charleston. Some folks think Big Max is the one who ought to be helping Amanda, not the church.”

There was obviously still some critical piece of information that Josh was missing. If getting this woman a place to live were that simple, it would have been done long ago.

“Why isn’t he?” Josh asked. “I assume there’s a reason.”

“There’s a lot of bad blood between the two of them,” Cord said succinctly.

“That’s an understatement and it’s not without reason, at least on Amanda’s part,” Caleb said. “Since you’re involved in this now, you should know what’s going on. Here’s the short version. Big Max disowned Amanda when she got married. He didn’t approve of Bobby O’Leary. He dug in his heels. Amanda refused to cave in to his pressure, so he hasn’t had a thing to do with her for almost ten years now. He’s never even set eyes on his grandkids. I think he regrets all that now, but he’s too stubborn to fix it, and Amanda’s too hurt and has too much pride to turn to him now that she’s in trouble because of Bobby’s mistakes.”

Josh got the picture. “But some folks think she should swallow her pride and go running to daddy now, instead of taking this opportunity away from some other family, one with no other resources.”

“Exactly,” Caleb said.

“I suppose I can see their point, but obviously she doesn’t think she can turn to her father or doesn’t want to after the way he treated her,” Josh said. “I can’t say I blame her.” He could empathize. Even if he discovered tomorrow that his father was rolling in dough, it would be a cold day in hell before he ever turned to the man for help, no matter how dire his own circumstances.

“As far as Amanda’s concerned, her father burned that bridge,” Caleb said. “She won’t ask him for a dime. So as far as I’m concerned, she’s a struggling single mom who’s as deserving as anyone else. And she’s doing everything she can to get back on her feet. It’s not like she came looking for a handout. People just saw a need and wanted to help. She’s one of our own. We have an opportunity to help her and we’ll all get something out of doing it.”

“So you want to go ahead, even though it’ll anger some members of your congregation?” Josh asked.

“Absolutely,” Caleb responded without hesitation. “And it’s really only one member who’s dedicated himself to stirring the pot. He just happens to be wealthy and powerful in his own right. He could complicate things if he switches from talk to action.”

“What sort of action?” Josh asked.

“Let’s just say he’s politically well connected and could hold things up,” Caleb replied. “Especially if he thinks he’s doing Big Max a favor in the process.”