Ginger chose the first church going into town, which turned out to be about twice the size of the one in Rooster but one of the smaller ones in Hondo. The congregation was already singing the first hymn when they walked into a packed house, so they had to go all the way to the front pew for a seat.
The ladies had decided to wear their pink Easter dresses from the year before, complete with hats and white gloves. It was truly by coincidence that Sloan had chosen a pink and green plaid shirt that morning and kind of matched them. The singing had been loud and lively when they first came in, but the noise dropped by 50 percent as the folks hushed and watched the newcomers take their seats. After the five of them had settled down on the pew right in front of the preacher, everyone began to pick up the volume again.
When the hymn was over, the preacher took his place behind the pulpit. “I’d like to welcome all our visitors this morning. We’re glad for every single soul who comes to worship with us. Since these folks on the front row didn’t get here in time to sing the first hymn with us, we’ll sing another one this morning. So turn your hymn books to page one forty and let your voices ring all the way to heaven’s gates.”
“That’s right sweet of him,” Ginger whispered to Sloan.
Sloan leaned over and cupped his hand over her ear. “Maybe God whispered in his ear to do that so that you’ll stay in this area and move in with me.”
“I haven’t made up my mind,” she said.
“Mind about what?” Betsy asked from Sloan’s other side.
“Shhh . . .” Kate poked Betsy in the ribs. “Mama taught us not to talk in church.”
Sloan didn’t even try to listen to the sermon. His mind went in circles, starting with what the commander had told him about a job and making its way around to how much he really did want Ginger to move in with him. That kiss the day before had told him that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. It was possible they could build a relationship out of the friendship they already had for sure.
Ginger must’ve gotten uncomfortable because she started to shift her weight from one hip to the other. He leaned over and said, “Are you okay?”
“Need to go to the bathroom, but I hate to walk past all these people,” she told him.
“Tell Betsy we’ll meet her in the car. I noticed the restrooms are right off the foyer. I’ll go with you. I’m about to fall asleep.” He laced his fingers in hers and pulled her up to a standing position.
Betsy gave him a sweet smile, and it almost seemed like lots of the people were enjoying having a little distraction from the pastor’s dry sermon that morning. Sloan waited outside while she went into the ladies’ room, and when she came out, he escorted her to the car.
“I didn’t mean to squirm like a little kid, but sitting a whole hour is gettin’ tougher and tougher. The baby tries to flatten my bladder sometimes. I’m sorry that you missed the last part of the sermon,” she apologized.
“Honey, I wasn’t listening to the sermon anyway,” he admitted.
She removed her hat and laid it on the seat between them. “Me, either. Most of the time, the preachin’ kind of bores me, and this morning I couldn’t keep my mind off those brownies. One part of me hopes that they don’t cause a problem. The bad part of my heart wants Edith to pay for insulting Belle. Did I tell you that I’ve picked out a name for my baby?” she asked, then fell silent.
“Nope, you did not.” He started the car and turned up the AC to cool it down for the ladies. “Are you going to tell me what it is or make me wait until she’s here?”
“Martha Belle.” It was the first time Ginger had said the name out loud, and it rolled off her tongue beautifully. She laid a hand on her stomach and said, “How do you like that name, little girl? Is it something you can love your whole life?”
“That was my grandmother’s name.” Sloan’s voice went hoarse like he was talking around a lump in his throat. “You can’t name the baby that and leave us, Ginger. We need you to be part of our lives.”
Like every other child that was born into this world, she had needed care from the time she was born, but that was the first time anyone had ever said that they needed her. She wasn’t sure what to do with the emotions inside her—did she run from them or to them?
“Are you sure about that? You’d forget me in a day or two, like the foster parents did when they said goodbye and I was taken away. It’s the way of nature to forget those who are out of sight,” she said.
“Honey, I’ll never forget you, and neither will the sisters,” he told her.
“Don’t know about the rest of y’all, but I hope next week’s church is better’n this one,” Kate said as she got into the car. “That sermon was so dry it about put me to sleep.”
“About, my ass.” Betsy slid into the middle of the big bench seat. “I had to keep nudging you with my good arm to keep you awake.”
“I heard her snore twice.” Connie fastened her seat belt. “And there was dust on the arm of the pew. That’s disgraceful. It’s my turn next week, and I’m choosing that big, fancy church downtown.”
“I’m going to ask Flora about all of them before I choose,” Betsy said. “She’s worked over here for more than forty years, so she’ll know a little something about them—like how good the preacher is and how crowded they might be and such things.”
They commented on every church they passed between the one they’d attended that morning and the café where they planned to have lunch. Flora had already arrived and gotten them a table, so they didn’t have to stand around and wait like twenty other people.
“I slipped out fifteen minutes early,” Flora said. “This place is pretty popular on Sundays.”
Sloan patted her on the back. “Thank you. I didn’t eat much breakfast, so I’m starving.”
“Plus, it took everything in him to sit still during a boring sermon. How was church in Rooster?” Betsy asked.
Flora put her hand over her mouth and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Fantastic. Just flat-out wonderful.”
Sloan squeezed Ginger’s knee under the table. “Sermon was that good, huh?” Dammit! He knew there would be a fiasco, and he’d missed it.
“Don’t have any idea what James talked about. Seems like he started off with something about loving thy neighbor, but then Edith”—Flora did a head wiggle—“who always has to sit on the front pew like the Queen of Sheba, just laid flat out on the pew and started snoring. I swear, I could almost see the roof risin’ up and down every time she snorted.”
“Oh, really?” Kate glared at Betsy. “What have you done?”
“I didn’t do a damned thing,” Betsy protested, holding both hands out. “You and Connie always blame me for everything.”
“With good reason,” Kate said. “If you didn’t do anything, then what did you cause to get done?”
Ginger raised her hand. “I made the brownies. She’s not lyin’ about that. She didn’t even touch the spoon I stirred them with or put in the wacky weed. I did it all by myself.”
Flora’s hand shot up. “And I’m the one who asked for them. I told her that my mama was feelin’ poorly and a brownie might help her sleep. She’s like Edith—she doesn’t get funny or loud when she’s high. She just goes to sleep.”
Connie’s hand was the third one to raise. “I’m the one who asked Flora to take the leftover brownies, which was all but one that her mama ate, to Sunday school, but Betsy told me to do it.”
“Traitor.” Betsy shot a mean look across the table. “I was almost home clear. Why’d you have to go and tattle on me?”
Ginger wanted independence, but she knew she could never leave this eccentric bunch of women. She leaned over and whispered into Sloan’s ear, “Yes.”
His eyes lit up like sparklers on the Fourth of July. “Do you mean it?” he asked.
“I do,” she told him.
“What are you two whispering about?” Kate asked.
“Ginger is going to move in with me,” Sloan said. “She’d love to continue to work for y’all, though.”
“Praise the Lord!” Connie said. “Darlin’, it’s not that we don’t love you.”
“And we want to be grannies to the baby,” Betsy said. “And I’d just lay down and die if you left us. But we’re old and set in our ways. A baby would be more than we could handle, especially at night.”
“We were thinkin’ of building you a little house out back of ours,” Kate said. “You need to raise your baby, and we’re a controlling bunch of old gals. I’m afraid that we’d try to take over.”
“We know our weaknesses. Look how we fight over the kittens.” Betsy leaned forward. “Of course, they love me best, and the baby will, too.”
“Why are you moving in with Sloan?” Flora asked.
“Because I asked her, and we’re such good friends,” Sloan said. “If that’s all we ever are, then that’s all right, but we’ve been a help to each other these past weeks, and I think we’ll make good roommates.”
“How’s that going to work if you take that offer from the military?” Flora asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Sloan patted Ginger on the knee.