Ruth Scofield - Loving Thy Neighbor

Quincee smoothed a hand over her long blue print skirt and ran an inspecting gaze over Kyle’s clean jeans and white open-neck dress shirt. His short hair lay close to his head, and his face appeared shiny clean.

Kerri looked fetching in the yellow sundress Quincee had hurriedly dug out from the bottom of a drawer for the child to wear. A simple white knit T-shirt under the printed straps dressed it up a bit.

Actually, the dress was too short for the child, but Quincee hadn’t had time to buy any new clothes for the children.

Who was she kidding? She hadn’t had any extra money to buy new clothes for any of them. Well, the old sewing machine would have to come out of storage, she decided. Attaching a ruffle onto the dress’s hem would solve that problem, and she could do some other long-needed mending while she was at it.

They climbed the concrete steps to the huge open front doors.

An older man, graying and with a limp, greeted them at the door with a handshake for her and a word for the children. “Good morning there, folks. How are you this fine morning? Welcome to God’s house, young man. And young missy. Nice of you to join us. Go right on in and find a place to sit. There’s an empty spot about halfway down this morning.”

Another greeter welcomed them inside the foyer and handed Quincee a program.

The church sanctuary, already about three-quarters full, was filling quickly. Quincee guided the children toward the center as directed. They slid into a pew. Surprisingly, Kerri was subdued enough to remain silent as she busily looked around her. Kyle asked whispered questions about who the people on the stage might be and excitedly pointed out that several had instruments. Were they going to play?

Before she could answer, a tap on her shoulder caused Quincee to glance backward. Bette and Gene Longacre sat just behind them.

“Why, hello there, Quincee,” Bette greeted with a smiling welcome. “And Kyle and Kerri.”

Gene nodded at the children, murmuring, “How spiffy you look this morning.”

Quincee felt warmed and unexpectedly at home.

“So nice to have you here to worship with us this morning,” Bette said. “Oh, Quincee. I have three other people who are eager to join the yard sale. One lives a block down, and she said she’d be glad to help set up such an event, and they all love your idea of barter. Can we get together tomorrow?”

Bette ended on a whisper as the musicians began the opening song.

“Oh, sure,” Quincee returned, also whispering. “Certainly.”

She then riveted her attention on the opening of the worship service, silently praying to have a listening heart.

They all rose to join the first lively song of joy and thanksgiving. The children, wide-eyed with curiosity, gazed around them when a family with several children squeezed into the pew on their other side. Kerri stretched to her toes trying to see the song leader.

The morning went quickly. Quincee, drawn into the sermon of God’s redeeming love, of His promises, felt lifted and filled with more peace than she’d had in months. Since before her sister’s illness, she thought. She hadn’t realized how hungry she’d been to hear it again. Closing her eyes, she silently thanked God for leading her to this church this morning.

Just before the close of the service, the minister announced a need to see the deacons for a few moments immediately following the service. He dismissed the congregation with the admonition, “Go home, go forth and share God’s love throughout the week, and love one another.”

Quincee and the children joined the sudden crush in the aisle. People greeted each other, someone mentioning the Royals’ latest baseball score, another replying. A child begged to go swimming as soon as they returned home. Behind her, Bette repeated her promise to call tomorrow. Looking over her shoulder, Quincee responded with a nod.

Someone pushed down the aisle against the tide, and Kerri suddenly called, “Hap. Hap, here we are.”

Quincee’s head snapped around. Almost face-to-face, Hamilton stared at her, his eyes darkening in mild shock. A fleeting image of his earlier appearance in his window crossed her mind. Something told her he was thinking of that same moment. Heat rose in her cheeks. She felt trapped in the eddy of flowing humanity, while hung up in his gaze.

He recovered more quickly than she and switched his attention to the children. Kerri had already grabbed his hand and looked at him adoringly. “I didn’t know you were at church, Hap.”

Hearing the nickname, a portly man glanced at them curiously as he came out of a pew nearby, his gaze finally leveling on Hamilton. His mouth curved in what Quincee could only call a smirk. “Five minutes, Judge,” the man said, and shoved his way down the aisle.

Irritation flickered across Hamilton’s face, but it was gone by the time he answered Kerri. “I didn’t know you were here, either, Kerri. Did you and Kyle find new friends at Bible class?”

“We didn’t go to Bible class,” Kyle told him. “We just came to church.”

“Come early enough for the children’s Bible study next week, children. You’d like it.” Then flashing Quincee a suspicious gaze, he asked, “How did you come today?”

“We walked,” Kerri informed him with pride. “We walked a hundred blocks.”

The crowd around them thinned. Hamilton glanced at the small knot of men gathering at the front, his expression indicating he was hoping for a quick exit. Quincee followed his gaze and noted the pastor watching them expectantly.

“Sorry, but I must go,” he said. “Deacon’s meeting. But if you wait around for about ten minutes, I’ll drive you home.”

Quincee dropped her gaze. Really? He was a deacon at this church? Oh, great! Why didn’t that surprise her? Of all her luck, she’d found a church she liked on the first try, and the judge was a deacon there. Was this a conspiracy to keep her under his watchful eye or something?

“That’s kind of you, but not this time, thank you.” She took Kerri’s hand. “Come on, kids. Let’s be on our way.”

“See you later, Hap,” Kerri said, letting go her hold on the judge. A tiny dimple appeared beside her mouth, worthy of Shirley Temple. “Can we come over and help in your garden today?”

“Um, I suppose so.” His lightning glance surveyed Quincee’s face. “Sure,” he said with more force. “I’ll, um, probably be out this afternoon. Just wait, all right?”

They were halfway home when Hamilton’s sleek, dark sedan rolled to a stop at the curb beside them. “Why didn’t you wait? Get in, I’ll take you the rest of the way home.”

“Thank you, but we’re fine.” Quincee kept a firm hand on Kerri and continued walking. Kyle marched a few yards ahead, dragging a large stick he’d picked up along the way. He dodged to the right, bounding at an overhanging limb.

“Kyle,” she protested.

Kyle pretended he didn’t hear her. Instead, he grabbed hold and swung in a Tarzan leap, landing miraculously on both feet. Quincee let out a sigh.

“I can have you home in three minutes,” Hap said. “It’s already hot out here.”

“No, thank you.” She tried to avoid raising her nose into the air or sounding self-sacrificingly superior or anything, but she just thought he needn’t have any further chances to oversee her life.

She didn’t want to be owing him any favors, either. Not unless they had a firm understanding about a barter exchange. Beside, it didn’t hurt for the judge to realize how doing without a car changed one’s daily perspective. She only wished he could experience it firsthand rather than by observation. “We are enjoying the walk.”

“Suit yourself.” He pulled away, his expression set.