Tell Me You’ll Be Mine Forever (Ch. 2)
“What can you tell me about your week?” Amy peeked over her menu at Mark.
It was how she always asked him about his work because she understood that the type of ministry in which he found himself employed carried with it a great measure of trust and confidentiality. She wasn’t one to push those boundaries or look for things to gossip about.
“I spent a lot of it studying and typing up my notes for my sermon, but there were also some calls that had to be made with Pastor Gauthier, and then, the flower beds needed tending.”
Mark set his menu aside. He knew what he was going to get without looking. According to his stomach, today was a bacon cheeseburger kind of day.
“You did the flower beds? I thought Mrs. Powell always did them.” Her brow furrowed as she scanned her menu. “Salad or a sandwich?”
“Salad is not a meal. Get the sandwich.”
“A salad is too a meal,” Amy protested. “Have you seen the size of the salads they make here?”
Mark chuckled. “Yes, I have. In fact, I ate one yesterday, but today’s not a salad day.”
“How is a day a salad day or not?”
He loved it when she argued with him and looked as befuddled as she was right now.
“The wind is a bit too brisk. That salad will not give you enough fuel to traipse up to the falls with me.”
Her look of bewilderment slid into a smile. “We’re taking a hike?”
“A short one.” He knew how much she loved to walk in nature. Perhaps one day they would have a son or daughter who would love it as much as she did.
“That sounds lovely. Very well, in that case, I will have the Chicken Caesar sandwich.” She took a sip of her water. “Why did you have to do the flower beds?”
“Mrs. Powell cut her finger when a jar broke while she was doing dishes. The doctor who stitched her up said she shouldn’t do anything too strenuous with that hand for a week. When she called, she said she would be able to get to them on this coming Wednesday, but I told her I would be happy to assist her in turning things over. That way, she can just dream about the colours of blooms she wants to put in while her hand heals.”
Amy sighed. “I wish I could grow things like Mrs. Powell does. I’m certain she could touch a tree stump and a new tree would sprout from it.” She laughed. “I know that is silly, but she is do gifted.”
“I will not deny that,” he agreed before giving his and Amy’s order to Carol.
“This is nice,” she said as she settled back in her seat to wait for their order to be prepared. “I like just sitting and talking with you.”
“I rather enjoy it as well.”
“Tell me about what you were studying this week.”
“Are you sure you want me to spoil the surprise of tomorrow’s sermon?” he teased.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She was never overly formal with anyone. She seemed to always be perfectly at ease.
Again, Mark thought ahead to the possibility of having a son or daughter who would be just as easy-going and patted the ring in his pocket. He had to be patient. The diner was not where he wanted to propose. There were no diner proposals in Pride and Prejudice. However, there were proposals in nature and at parsonages.
“I am sure you studied things that will not even be mentioned in your sermon tomorrow. You always say you do. The bulletin was not printed yet when we left the church, or I wouldn’t have to ask you. I would have sneaked a peek.”
He loved the feisty spirit she possessed.
“Please?”
“It sounds like your kiddos at the daycare have been teaching you how to plead for something quite well.”
Her lips pursed and her eyes danced. She leaned forward and whispered, “Oh, they are not teaching me. I am teaching them. But don’t tell their parents.”
“Um, I hate to interrupt.” Paul stood at the end of their table. “But Pops wants to know if you’d like your order to go.” He handed Mark a folded piece of paper. “He got a call for you. Seems like it’s a good thing you’re preaching tomorrow.”
“Oh, dear! Has something happened to Pastor Gauthier?” Amy asked.
Mark reread the words on the slip of paper he held and blew out a breath. “He’s at the hospital.” He looked up at Amy with concern. “He was having chest pains.”
She sucked in a quick breath. “I’ll go with you,” she said immediately before turning to Paul. “We’ll take our food with us, and if Mark doesn’t mind, could you add a BLT for Mrs. Gauthier and a slice of your apple pie. I know she won’t likely wish to eat now, but she might later, and I’d hate for her to have to cook or worse, eat what they offer at the hospital cafeteria. Their sandwiches aren’t nearly as good as yours are.” She looked at Mark. “What do you think?”
He thought she knew exactly what to do in a difficult situation and was thinking very well for someone who he had expected to be more affected by the news than he was. “I think your plan is perfect.”
“I’ll tell Pops,” Paul said, “and he can meet you at the cash.” The man looked troubled.
“Is something wrong, Paul?” Mark asked.
He shook his head and then, shrugged. “I feel bad about saying what I did about his preaching.”
Mark scooted out from his place behind the table. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s perfectly acceptable to have preferences. Even Pastor Gauthier would say so.”
“Are you sure?”
Mark nodded. “Absolutely.”
“I hope he gets better. I’d say I’ll pray for him, but I’m not so sure God hears me.”
“Why would he not hear you? I thought you told me that you gave him your heart when you were twelve.” It was one of the first tough conversations Mark had broached with Paul during one of his solidary meals at the diner.
“I did, but I don’t go to church or read my Bible like I know I should.” He shook his head. “You need to get going, and I need to take this to Pops.”
Mark put a hand on his shoulder before he could scoot away. This was not a conversation that could wait.
“If you hadn’t visited your gran or read her letters for a while, do you think she’d hang up on you if you called?”
Paul’s eyes grew wide. “No.”
“Same goes with God. Just talk pick up the phone, so to speak, and talk to Him. He’ll listen.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
“Just like that? Nothing else I need to do like go to church for a month or read a book of the Bible?”
“Just like that.”
“Huh,” Paul’s eyebrows rose, and his lips tipped into a crooked smile. “Okay, I will. Thanks.”
Amy wound her arm around his. “That was a very wise answer,” she whispered.
“Thanks, but I can’t take credit for it. I’m pretty sure that was the Holy Spirit at work.” He smiled down at her. “Are you okay?”
Her smile faltered. “I am. At least, I think so.”
“I can take you home instead of to the hospital.” He knew that the hospital would not hold very pleasant memories for Amy. Her father had died of a heart attack two years ago.
“No, I need to go. Someone has to hold Mrs. Gauthier’s hand, and I’m good at that. My kids at work have given me lots of practice at holding hands and drying tears.”
“You’re sure you want to go?”
She nodded. “I understand some of what she’s feeling.” The comment was said softly.
“If you’re sure, I’d love to have you by my side.” Forever.
“And I’d like to be there. It’s kind of my favourite place to be.”
“Even if we’re facing tough circumstances like this?”
Again, she nodded.
“Sorry you have to leave before you even got served,” Paul’s dad stood at the cash register, waiting for them. “Your order is almost ready. Carol is just boxing up Mrs. Gauthier’s sandwich and pie.” He punched a few buttons on the machine in front of him. “That will be ten dollars.”
Mark’s brow furrowed. “I think your cash register is broken.”
Mr. Lally laughed. “It’s not broken. I’d just hand you the bag and not charge you a cent, but I know you’d protest.”
The man did know him well. “I most certainly would. But are you sure? A workman is worthy of his pay, you know?”
Carol slipped two boxes into the bag on the counter.
“Yes, you are,” Mr. Lally agreed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, I know that, but it’s still true. Paul says you’re preaching Sunday. I’ll be listening while I cook eggs and burn the toast.” He winked at Amy when she giggled. “Your fella here sure was smart to get the church on the radio. I can’t tell you how many of my regular Sunday morning customers appreciate it – we have a couple of delivery guys that stop for a bite every Sunday just as the singing starts, and I have to say that on my part it makes scheduling workers easier as there aren’t as many who are hesitant to give up their Sunday sermons to wait tables or cook breakfast.”
“Well, it only seems right that we keep up with technology and use it to extend our reach to build and add to God’s family however we can.” It had been a bit of a struggle to get a few of the church members to see a radio broadcast as a good thing. A few still didn’t see it as something worthwhile.
Mr. Lally rubbed the back of his neck. “Wish it had been an option long ago.” He looked toward his son who was clearing the corner table with the wrap around bench. “We did our best, but…” His words trailed off and left a feeling of regret hanging in the air.
“Kids are only so malleable,” Amy said with a smile. “They eventually exert their own will and have to find their own way. Just pray for him.”
Mr. Lally nodded. “I do. Nearly every day.” He blew out a breath. “Give my best to Mrs. Gauthier and her husband when you see him. I’ll be praying for healing.” He turned to go back to the kitchen.
“That was wise counsel, Miss Green,” Mark said as he held the door for her to exit before him.
She smiled mischievously at him. “I suppose it comes from hanging around you. The wisdom just rubs right off, and occasionally, I catch a piece.” Her laughter floated on the spring breeze.
“I think it comes from studying the scripture,” Mark replied with a chuckle. “I only wish I had wisdom that fell from me. It would make doing this job a lot easier.” He put the food on the back seat of his car as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“This isn’t exactly the date I had planned,” he said as he slipped into his place behind the wheel. That ring in his pocket might have to remain there until he could replan. He shook his head. That was disappointing.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I don’t mind this. I mean, I’d rather that Pastor was not in the hospital and all, but I don’t mind that we won’t get to take a hike or that we’ll have to eat our sandwiches from a box in a waiting room. This is who you are. It’s what God has called you to be.”
She clicked her seatbelt into place. “Now, Pastor Bennett, you were attempting to avoid answering my question about what you studied this week when our plans got reshuffled.”
She turned so that she was looking more at him and less out the front window. “Will you tell me on the way to the hospital?”
“I suppose I can, but don’t blame me if you fall asleep before we get across town.”
“Hatfield Falls is not that big! I’m sure you would have to drive there and back three times before I would nod off.”
He chuckled as he backed out of his parking spot.
God truly knew what he was doing when he had made Mark such a horrid cook that he had to try out the Falls Diner on his first day in Hatfield Falls, for that was when he had first met Amy. She was perfect for him, absolutely perfect, for she was wise and supportive and knew how to be just a touch cheeky when needed his mood lightened.
“Let me see. What did I learn this week that might not be boring. Hmm.”
The gentle knick-knock of the turn signal filled the air as Mark thought.
“Oh, I know,” he cried as he turned onto the road. “Did you know that in ancient times, there used to be a ship railway that they used to move small boats of goods across the Isthmus of Corinth?” From her delighted cry of surprise, he was certain he had hit upon the perfect topic to keep them both entertained for some minutes while they drove.
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Chapter 3
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