Praise Petals

High School sophomore, Rose Hicks, tolerates her limited social life as long as her sidekick, Jay Allen, is by her side, but when Jay receives the best news of his life Rose is forced to survive the rest of the school year at the mercy of school bully GODZILLY JENKINS. When she is recruited as a member of an all-girl praise team, Rose realizes that even the most popular girls have problems and that mean girls need love too.

P E TA L S

A CHURCH OF GO NOVEL

Lisa A. McCombs

Award-winning author and veteran teacher of thirty-three years, Lisa A. McCombs had a front-row seat for adolescent angst until multiple sclerosis entered the picture and ended her beloved career as a public school teacher. Now Lisa communicates with her preferred age group through realistic fiction that covers speaks to the youth of today, yesterday, and tomorrow.

Lisa’s YA titles include Abby, Raspberry Beret, and Opening Pandora’s Box, a trilogy inspired and edited by a special group of middle school students intent upon helping their teacher achieve the dream of becoming published. The Church of Go series is Lisa’s current project that includes award-winning Bombs Bursting in Air and Praise Petals. Her book awards include a Mom's Choice Award, Gold Readers' Favorite International Book Award, Gold Literary Classics Award, and a Next Generation Indie Book Award.

P R A I S E

“There was a Church of God that I had driven past numerous times, but one time there was something different about the sign. The ‘D’ from GOD had fallen down. As I’m driving home, sermon ideas began to run through my mind. ‘Church of GO!’ This is exactly what the big ‘C’ Church should exemplify; Big ‘C’ meaning not just one singular church or denomination.

What she is doing in her GOing outside the walls and doors of the Church.

The ‘Church of GO’ will GO and make disciples of all nations baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Great Commission Jesus gave was not for the Church to be a building, but a movement of love sending us on the GO!” —Pastor Larry Buckland, Life Church, Fairmont, WV

Lisa A. McCombs

Praise Petals A Church of Go Novel

Lisa A. McCombs

Publisher Page an imprint of Headline Books, Inc. Terra Alta, WV

Praise Petals

Praise Petals: A Church of Go Novel

by Lisa A. McCombs copyright ©2021Lisa A. McCombs All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Publisher Page.

To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.headlinebooks.com Tel: 304-789-3001 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com Publisher Page is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN 13: 9781951556297 Library of Congress Control Number: 2020942803

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

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1 Snarky.

If a word existed to describe Lilly Jenkins, “snarky” would be a top contender. According to Webster, snarky means “crotchety; snappish; sarcastic and irreverent.” In other words, Lilly.

Besides, “snarky” was fun to say. And since there was nothing fun about Lilly, the irony was compelling.

If it weren’t for her obnoxious attitude and disregard for good manners, Lilly “Godzilly” Jenkins would be beautiful. Platinum blond hair, crystal blue eyes, flawless complexion—she should be the envy of every girl at Ellison High School and the subject of desire for every male in town.

Unfortunately, Lilly was mean. Downright out-and-out mean, especially to me and my best friend, Jay Allen.

And Lilly Jenkins was in rare form today.

She had jumped in front of me in the lunch line to grab the last chocolate pudding. And then, between the last two classes, Lilly “accidentally” bumped into me, knocking my books all over the hallway floor. Immediately after that, she “accidentally” locked the classroom door behind her, making me tardy for class.

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Yes, Lilly was acting suspicious. How do I know? Because Lilly was sneaky. I quickly jotted sneaky and suspicious on my list.

I was on letter S in my daily evaluation of Lilly Jenkins. It was a good way to turn a negative into a positive when faced with the predictably unpredictable actions of the Godzilly. When Lilly felt disgruntled (part of my letter D collection), I knew a target was on my back. That’s how it always was and has been since third grade—when Lilly’s family moved to Ellison.

A well-aimed spitball slammed into the area above my eyes.

What most individuals refer to as the forehead, unfortunately, was actually my eyebrow. My one big, black, hairy eyebrow. There was no hiding it. Bangs only blended in enough to make the mess even more hairy. The same with eyeglasses.

Plucking, trimming, shaving—nothing helped for more than a few minutes.

I was a freak—especially for a girl. No doubt about it.

I tried to turn my attention to class—the last class on the last day of the week. I actually enjoyed French class, and I adored Mademoiselle Bouffant, so, as always, it passed quickly. The dismissal bell rang, and all my classmates hurried to escape.

“Freak,” Lilly hissed as she passed me.

Yes, Lilly is definitely snarky. And suspicious. And sneaky and sadistic and sarcastic and sinister. The spit ball wouldn’t satisfy her need to torment. Today being Friday, her pain quotient was not filled. There was still the walk home, which wasn’t that long—but enough time for Lilly to ice her cake of torturous intent. I needed to avoid that, if at all possible.

I took my time gathering class supplies, hoping that Mademoiselle Bouffant was in no hurry to escape her duties for the weekend.

Mademoiselle always seemed to find time for her students, but Friday might be a different story. Especially since today was Valentine’s Day. The exotic French-born teacher surely had a love interest waiting to treat her to a romantic evening. Right?

When Mademoiselle made no move to hurry me from the 4

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room, I took full advantage of this unplanned reprieve. The longer I lingered at school, the lesser the possibility of a Godzilly attack.

But the more time spent here also prolonged my much anticipated Friday visit to my private sanctuary.

As a volunteer at the Church of Go, I treasured every Friday afternoon and Saturday morning tinkering around the church.

Pastor Larry probably didn’t need my help, but I chose to believe I was actually being helpful. I answered the office phone, organized the pastor’s notes, made sure the coffee pot was full, and sometimes even pecked around on the sanctuary piano.

At the church I was safe, and…wanted. Maybe even a little needed. And no one looked at my unibrow.

At The Church of Go I was exempt from gossip, from social anguish, and left at peace with Jay Allen, my one true friend.

Jay Allen and I were cut from the same cloth. While I suffered the injustices of a weird facial growth, Jay Allen lived in an upside down world that only he could understand. His eyes were permanently crossed. He stared all day long at the bridge of his nose.

I was particularly anxious to see Jay Allen today. His absence from school had been planned for a couple of weeks, but I still missed him. Today was the day he would find out about the possibility of corrective surgery.

“Mademoiselle Rose, when you are ready, let me transport you from here. It is pouring the rain!”

My teacher’s totally random offer should have come as a surprise, but it actually solidified the belief that she had some kind of second sight. She was aware of the Godzilly among us, but elected to guard my integrity by pointedly ignoring the issue with her kind act.

I played along with this impromptu offer and gratefully followed Mademoiselle to her sporty, cream-colored Mini Cooper.

When we passed a sodden Lilly hunkered under an inadequate hoody, I fought an urge to flutter my fingers in her direction. But snarky, suspicious, sadistic, sneaky, sarcastic, sinister Lilly Jenkins 5

Praise Petals

was paying no attention to her surroundings. Not to me, to the rain, nor to the passing car that covered her head to toe in an icy puddle splash.

I did my best to stifle a giggle, feeling slightly guilty when I heard a French apology from the driver’s side of the vehicle.

Jay Allen met me in the church vestibule, bouncing with excitement.

“He called, Rose. The doctor called! He can do it. He can fix my eyes!” Jay Allen gulped some air. “Next week! We leave for Cleveland Clinic tomorrow!”

I tried my best to digest the news Jay Allen had waited for all of his life. Research had been underway for several years on an experimental procedure to correct situations like Jay’s, but he and his family rarely talked about the possibilities, not wishing to encourage senseless hope; but the trials are evidently “in” and Jay’s dream is coming true.

“Oh, Jay…” I struggled with my words. My closest friend just received the best news of his life, and I had no idea what to say.

“That’s great! This calls for a celebration. Want to ditch our Friday ritual and go to my house? Mom can order pizza.”

“Gee, Rose, that sounds great, but I have to get packed. And I promised Pastor Larry that I would let him know immediately.

So, as soon as I talk to him, I need to head home. I just wanted you to be the first to know. Well, besides me, of course.”

“Okay. Maybe I will see you tomorrow? I can come over or we can meet here?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Rose. Let’s play it by ear, okay?” The bouncing was really getting out of control, and I wondered if maybe Jay Allen needed to make a dash to the men’s room. His excitement was rather contagious, even though the sting of unshed tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

“I. AM. SO. EXCITED!” Jay Allen grabbed my hands, urging me to join him in his bouncy dance.

So, we bounced.

And we bounced.

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And we bounced some more.

And then he was gone.

With promises to keep me updated.

And the reality of me being alone.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

7

Praise Petals

2 On Saturday morning, I tried not to think about Jay’s absence as I tossed my backpack over my shoulder and mounted my bike.

It wasn’t the most popular or cool mode of transportation, but it was my only way to easily get from point A to point B. And hopefully the fresh air would help me wrap my brain around the reality of Jay Allen’s situation.

I understood his recovery from next week’s surgery may take a while, but why did his family book an extended vacation immediately following Jay’s big event? And why were they going to be gone for so long? Jay would not return to Ellison until early summer. And this was only February!

I kind of hated to admit my dependence on Jay Allen’s presence. As annoying as he could be sometimes—make that all of the time—at least his presence was consistent. He gave me a kind of twisted purpose. Jay depended on me and I on him.

Would this procedure change that? I wanted nothing more than for it to work, for Jay to come out of it unharmed and whole.

But would the success of this operation alter our relationship?

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When his eyes were corrected and his sight improved, would he still need me, the left-behind handicap from his former life?

Jay was already gorgeous once you got past the obvious focus of his eyes. Once he returned to Ellison with his new and approved appearance, I felt certain that his social life would escalate. Where would that leave me?

As soon as I entered the front doors of Sacred Sanctuary, I instinctively knew that things had changed. Without Jay’s presence, my joy was gone. Even though I always felt at ease here, Jay was a big part of the reason for that feeling. Without much hope of finding happiness, I made my way through the church.

“Hey, Rosebud, I didn’t know you were here. What’s up?”

Pastor Larry’s special nickname for me boomed off the vestibule walls. I didn’t recall either harnessing my bike or entering the church, so lost in thought was I. Pastor had a creative way of identifying the young—and even some of the older—congregants of Sacred Sanctuary. He didn’t mean any offense and surprisingly—especially in the case of the rather unfortunate choices like Spacey Tracy and VioLynn—everyone seemed pleased he took the time to make them special.

And he did. He made everyone feel special.

Before I could gather an appropriate answer to his inquiry, a very strange thing happened.

I burst into tears.

There was no preamble to the flow. No warning. The flood was accompanied with heaving sobs. Never in my life could I remember such an unexpected flux of sorry. And before I knew it, I found myself engulfed in Pastor’s arms.

“There, there, Rosebud. Whatever it is, we can take care of it.” Pastor Larry smoothed my hair and spoke softly near my ear.

“You just get those tears out. Empty yourself so we can start filling you with good thoughts.”

And I did just that. In a position I would normally find awkward, I felt only love and acceptance. Pastor Larry never judged and rarely asked questions, unless invited.

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“So, what’s up, Rosebud? Bad day?”

Although the tears had subsided, Pastor Larry offered a sense of peace that allowed me to regain enough composure to respond.

With a gulp and a tiny hiccup, I peered into those wonderful eyes and nodded. “Oh, Pastor Larry, what am I going to do? Jay Allen’s gone.” With another shaky gulp, I continued. “He went to get that surgery done on his eyes, and he won’t be back until summer!”

“Well, little bud, I think I have just the answer for you. Something to occupy your time while Jay Allen is recuperating.” Pastor tilted my chin up to look at him and continued. “I have been presented with a wonderful idea, and you are just the person I need to get this plan airborne. Whatdya say? Do you have time in your schedule today to give me a hand? The rest of them will be here shortly.”

I found myself nodding in agreement without even giving Pastor’s proposal further thought. I might be a doormat, but anything, anything was better than sitting around boohooing about Jay Allen. I really did want his surgery to work, but I admittedly was a bit jealous. He was getting rid of his handicap while the wooly worm that resided on my face refused to leave.

Excusing myself to the restroom to straighten out my tearstained face, it suddenly hit me that other people were involved in Pastor Larry’s plans. I had hoped to putter around the church today by myself. I did not want to be around the very core of my everyday discomfort. But I would do just about anything for Pastor Larry.

Leaving the restroom, I followed the sounds of laughter to find the source.

“There she is. Hey, Rose, come join the party.” Pastor Larry mixed a giant vat of lemonade. Next to him, someone familiar stacked what smelled to be freshly baked brownies on a platter.

“Rose, you know Maggie, right? Same school, same class?”

And there she was. Maggie Myers. Of course I knew her. Everyone knew Maggie. Pretty, smart, achingly wealthy Maggie Myers.

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She was probably one of the most recognized sophomores at EHS. She was the most elusive student in school. So her presence was equally odd. Maggie was never seen in town on the weekends.

Instead, she stayed tucked away on the grounds of the country club where her family resided. It was rumored she had an in-ground pool in her backyard, which was why Maggie sported the perfect tan from May until October. And here she was, right in front of me, wearing fashionably frayed blue jeans and a worn Ellison High School sweatshirt. Probably trying to fit in with those of us of lesser financial privilege.

“Rose, hi! I’m so glad you’re here!”

I couldn’t detect any trace of sarcasm, but there had to be a catch. The Maggie Myerses of the world did not hang out with someone like me. What was she doing here? As far as I knew, she did not attend Sacred Sanctuary—and I would know, since Jay Allen and I worked the sound system for both services every Sunday.

“Great. We are off to a smashing start. Now, girls, help me organize these song sheets before the others get here.”

I was so accustomed to cleaning up Pastor’s lack of organizational skills; I wasn’t surprised he wasn’t prepared for the day.

But Maggie was equally ready to sort through the mess of papers in front of us. When our hands touched as we grabbed for the papers, Maggie giggled shyly before swooping up the entire pile and gesturing us toward a table in the corner. “Let’s take these over there where we can be out of the way.”

Sure, out of the way. That was my standard concept of life.

As long as I was “out of the way,” no one could judge my appearance. Instinct warned me to be on alert. Maggie was being far too nice to me. Popular girls plus notorious freak did not add up to a positive equation.

Strangely enough, by the time the rest of the invited participants arrived, Maggie had worked her magic and charmed herself into my heart. I didn’t want our time together to end. I sincerely wanted to believe I had found a friend.

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When more girls bound through the door, I knew my moment was doomed. They were all students at EHS. There was perky red-headed Ginger. Her brother Nico used to work the sound board before he went away to college. He had trained Jay Allen and me, and was a super nice guy. I didn’t really know Ginger, but she had always been nice to me at church, and she usually acknowledged me at school even if we didn’t run in the same social group. I had no problems with her. I think she belonged to every club at EHS while volunteering for any and every community event in town. I didn’t know when she’d find the time for this.

Jasmine Jones surprised me by being there. Since EHS was a small school, all students were pretty much visible on a daily basis. Jasmine kind of faded into the woodwork and was easily forgotten. Where I was an obvious target for ridicule, Jazz tended to float through the halls of school and the streets of the neighborhood in her own little bubble. It was a shame. Jasmine was probably one of the most physically perfect human beings I’ve ever known. A product of a Caucasian mother and light-skinned African American father, her cafe crème complexion and her seafoam eyes were impossible to ignore. But Jasmine never accentuated her beauty, instead hiding under dark-colored hoodies and keeping her nose buried in a book. She had studied ballet when we were in grade school. Her parents drove her to the neighboring town of Morgantown twice a week for classes. I wondered if she still did that.

I recognized identical twins Ivy and Iris, but really didn’t know them other than that they were inseparable. Their mannerisms were identical. Facial expressions perfectly aligned one with the other. They dressed the same every single day, making it nearly impossible to identify Ivy from Iris. Only one of them spoke out loud. Ivy? Iris? evidently had a speech impediment and depended on her sister for verbal communication.

All the while Maggie stayed by my side as she greeted each new arrival with a little wave and a bright smile. She didn’t ap12

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pear to need the comfort of other people and continued to work alongside me while we untangled Pastor Larry’s mess.

“Okay, girls, we are waiting on—” A distant door slammed. The disgruntled voice of a newcomer echoed through the halls, “Where are you guys? I can hear you, but this place is like a maze!”

Pastor laughed. “Just follow my voice.”

And, with that, he began to sing. His rich, surprisingly strong voice always amazed me. It wouldn’t surprise me if Sacred Sanctuary, nicknamed The Church of Go, was filled to capacity each week because people just wanted to witness the beauty of Pastor’s voice. He didn’t sing often with the praise team, because when Pastor sang, the rest of the congregation stopped, just to listen to him. It was difficult to enjoy the perfection of his voice while singing alongside him. A voice like his deserved and demanded absolute, solitary attention.

But since his song of choice right now was one we all knew, we raised our voices to join in. I didn’t think twice about adding my voice to the strains of my favorite hymn—”Amazing Grace” was just that—amazing.

And the voices joining in were no less awesome. In fact, the blended voices of Maggie, Ginger, Jasmine, the twins, Pastor, and myself was such a surprise that we burst into spontaneous applause as the last guest burst through the door, out of breath and red-faced.

“Wow, thanks for waiting for me,” Lilly panted with her hands on her knees as if recovering from a track and field event. “That was a really pretty song, but I’m hoping we can jazz it up a bit.

Add a couple of guitars and maybe a horn or two.”

Lilly Godzilly Jenkins. The most horrible person I knew.

“What is she doing here?” Maggie Myers whispered.

According to Lilly, she and Maggie were thick as thieves. The bestest of besties. Maggie’s negative reaction to Lilly’s presence surprised and confused me.

“So, what’s going on here? Why am I here? On a Saturday, for 13

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God’s sake! This better be good. We should be at the mall!” Lilly seemed to have gathered her composure with a fluff of her platinum blond hair. “Oh, hey, Mags! Good. You’re here, too.”

Maggie stiffened as Lilly began her journey across the tiled floor in our direction, only halting long enough to wave a hand in my direction to indicate that my time beside her friend was over.

“Move over, caterpillar. What do you think you’re doing, anyway?” She glanced around the room, demanding attention.

“Where’s that cock-eyed buddy of yours? Aren’t the two of you joined at the hip?”

“Hello, Lilly.” Maggie quickly replaced the negative attention directed toward me with something I wasn’t accustomed to: kindness. “Rose and I are sorting some papers for today’s meeting.

Maybe you can grab a seat with the others until we are finished.”

Her hand rested on my arm in a silent message to stay put.

I had no idea what was transpiring here, but unfamiliar warmth of satisfaction swept up my body at being chosen as Maggie’s companion—at least for the moment.

With an audible “humph” and a twirl of her hair, Lilly reluctantly obeyed Maggie’s request. “Sure, girlfriend. We’ll catch up later.”

A collective sigh was released when Lilly finally flounced to a seat away from the rest of the girls.

“Welcome, ladies!” Pastor Larry’s voice claimed all eyes, and we waited for an explanation of this gathering.

“As some of you might know, Sacred Sanctuary is blessed with the finest Praise Team around, and we are very proud and blessed to have such talent in our midst. At our latest administration meeting, though, an idea to begin something new this spring was introduced. And this idea includes each and every one of you exclusively.” Pastor Larry paused to sip from a plastic water bottle. “I had no idea that our community contained so many flowers.” He included each of us with a slow wave of his hand above our heads.

Excited chatter began to grow as we realized the meaning of his words.

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“Oh, my. How did he know?” Maggie whispered softly.

Her words didn’t register until I took a silent inventory of the girls in the room. Jasmine, Lilly, Iris, Ivy, Ginger, and Rose. Yes, we were a colorful arrangement. And then I looked at a red-faced Maggie. There was a mystery here that needed explaining.

Before any explanation could be offered, Lilly erupted. “Hey, no offense, Mr. Jesus-man, but Red over there is not a flower.

Ginger is a root. A filthy root that grows in the dirt. How can she be part of this so-called flower garden?” The smug look on Lilly’s face reminded us that she was in control.

“You are absolutely correct, Lilly. A ginger plant does not flower, but our Ginger is here because her lovely voice could not be ignored. And, I have it on good authority that her new kitten is named Blossom.”

“Whew,” Ginger sighed.

“A technicality.” Lilly was not satisfied, but let it go when her eyes fell upon Maggie. Realization shot across her face, growing the question in all of our minds. What was a Maggie flower?

Squirming in her seat, Maggie cleared her throat and nodded in Pastor’s direction. “Okay, so I have a deep, dark secret, and it’s time to confess,” she said. “I have always been known as Maggie because it is easier, I guess. My parents are kind of stuck in another dimension.” She laughed softly, but with no bitterness toward those who named her. “Believe it or not, my mother’s name is Daisy and Dad’s name is Joshua, so plant names are not unusual in the Myers family.”

Lilly looked sincerely confused at that. She evidently knew about roots, but tree names eluded her.

“So, I was named after my great-grandmother. My true name is—” Maggie squared her shoulders and sat a bit straighter, prouder.

“Magnolia.”

“What?” Lilly practically screeched at this declaration. “Why did you never tell me that?”

I guess Lilly found higher value in their relationship than did Maggie, and I understood. This Maggie beside me was not who I 15

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thought she was. Many mysteries were unfolding for me today. I wish Jay Allen was here to witness this.

“I didn’t think it was that important. But, now that it’s out in the open, I’m glad. I’m happy to be named after my great-granny.

And I owe it to you, Pastor Larry, for making me see that. Thank you.” With that said, Maggie “Magnolia” crossed the room and gave Pastor a hug.

Sporting a surprised grin, Pastor wrapped his arm around Maggie’s shoulders.

“Well, I suppose now is a good time to explain this gathering.

I look around this room and see the very essence of what I had hoped. Seven of God’s flowers budding up for a new adventure.

An opportunity to relish in His glory, doing what I know each of you does very well. As of today, if you each agree to accept this challenge, the seven of you will be known as the Petals—The Praise Petals of Sacred Sanctuary.” Without removing his arm from around Maggie, Pastor Larry asked us all to bow our heads as he quoted a scripture that would become our official mantra.

“Psalm one hundred says ‘Oh sing to the LORD a new song, for he has done marvelous things! His right hand and his holy arm have worked salvation for him. The LORD has made known his salvation; he has revealed his righteousness in the sight of the nations. He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness to the house of Israel. All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God. Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises! Help us, Oh, Lord, to make a joyful noise.’ Amen.”

The rest of the morning went surprisingly well, and no one seemed inclined to refuse the invitation to be a Petal, although I caught Lilly throwing Maggie inquisitive stares as if waiting for her hero to release them from this commitment.

But that did not happen, and Maggie continued to stay close at my side. Pastor even paired us up for a possible duet, which totally unnerved me since my number one rule is not to draw attention to myself for any reason. This did not seem to concern 16

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Maggie, though.

“I had no idea you sang, Rose! This is so exciting!” Maggie quietly gushed, ignoring Lilly completely.

The remainder of the morning flew by, and when Pastor Larry thanked us all for coming and announced it was time to visit the diner as his treat, there was a unified cheer from the newly appointed Praise Petals.

“Oh, I nearly forgot. Rose and Maggie will be setting up a rehearsal schedule, so be sure to write your phone number and email on the clipboard before leaving.”

I raised a very large eyebrow at Maggie, who returned my question with an excited smile and a thumb’s up. She actually seemed thrilled to be working with me. My heart raced with a new kind of happiness. Maybe I was actually gaining a new friend.

Someone not Jay Allen. A really and truly gal pal.

But catching a glimpse of Lilly Jenkins’s smirk rattled that hope. When she caught up to me at the door, a seed of doubt sprouted into a full-fledged plant.

“Don’t get any ideas, caterpillar,” Lilly whispered harshly at the back of my head. “You don’t really think Maggie will choose you over me, do you? She’s just messing with you.”

Before I could form any semblance of a response—not that I would—Lilly’s finger flipped the back of my head and she brushed past me to Maggie’s side.

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3 As soon as I entered the multipurpose room, I heard the unmistakable voice that shook my very soul. Godzilly had beaten me to the church for Saturday rehearsal. So I didn’t have any private time to prepare for two hours of her presence.

“So, Mags, I know the perfect way to end this school year and start the summer. We’ll have a pool party at your pool! All the petals will come, and, of course, all the really cool guys from school. It’ll be crazy fun!”

Pool party? It’s February! And there is snow in the forecast.

Lilly’s idea definitely sounded crazy. But fun? I quickly searched my mental notes for the letter of the day. Since I normally only devoted school time to Lilly’s descriptors, I had lost track of my alphabet for the weekend. Looks like that would have to change now. Gonna need a larger notebook.

Before I could accidentally blurt out my thoughts and set myself up for the wrath of Godzilly, Maggie interceded on my behalf.

“Lilly, it’s not my pool. It belongs to the country club. I just 18

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happen to live close and get to work as the lifeguard during the summer months. I doubt I could convince the owners to allow me to host a pool party.”

The shocked looks on everyone’s faces mimicked my own and left Lilly sputtering, searching for a comeback. Maggie’s confused look made the situation even more interesting. Everyone knew that Maggie lived on the upper class grounds of Great Hill Country Club. Didn’t Maggie’s family own the pool?

“Oh, Maggie! You are so funny!” Lilly’s hysterical laughter broke the silence, eliciting soft twitters of uncertain giggles from the rest of us.

“Well, it’s good to hear laughter on this fine Saturday morning. So I suppose that means we are all in good spirits and ready to sing!” Pastor Larry entered the room.

We all turned our eyes to the agenda, but our thoughts were still clouded by the recent interchange.

“I saw on the morning news that we have a behemoth of a nor’easter headed our way tonight, so let’s make the best of our time before it hits. I’ve prepared an abbreviated version of Sunday’s sermon, since some of you may not make it in for church tomorrow morning.” Pastor Larry hopped up on the edge of the stage and slapped his palms on his knees.

“In Job 40, verses 15-24, he writes: The Jaws. Behold now the behemoth, which I made with thee; he eateth grass as an ox. Lo now, his strength is in his loins, and his force is in the navel of his belly. He moveth his tail like a cedar: the sinews of his stones are wrapped together. Whatever Job is describing is huge and fierce, much like Hollywood’s Godzilla. It’s massive, scary—” I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping.

With a fearful glance at Lilly, it dawned on me that she had no idea of the irony of Pastor’s reference.

“This weekend, as this monster of a snowstorm threatens our skies, I want you to think about what threatens your earthly days and remember there are no problems so large that we cannot find a solution. That bad grade, that surly remark from a class19

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mate, not being invited to join a group—it’s nothing in the big picture. As long as you trust in God and remember He is with you at all times, the problem is not as big as the one described in Job. No problem is too large for God. Let us pray.”

Behemoth. As Pastor Larry offered words of encouragement and thanksgiving, I pondered on that word and decided that my Lilly alphabet would start in the Bs, since she was truly worthy of being behemoth.

I couldn’t think of anything or anyone in my life who managed to occupy such a large portion of my daily concerns. If not for Godzilly, I couldn’t think of any large problems in my life right now. Other than the fact my best friend was off somewhere in another state facing his own behemoth of a problem. But I could do nothing about that. That was definitely in God’s hands.

I guess it was going to be up to me to handle the Lilly situation.

She was my battlefield. My beast of burden. A behemoth, bloodsucking blemish.

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4 “Hey, Rose!”

Jay Allen’s voice came out loud and clear over the phone waves as I stared at the blowing winter wonderland outside my bedroom window. A quick glance at my bedside clock told me he wasn’t on Ellison, West Virginia time this Sunday morning. I was never up before eight on non-school days.

It didn’t matter. It was Jay Allen—at last.

“What’s going on, Jay? Have they fixed your eyes yet? Tell me everything!

I really wanted to know, but I also had hours of news to relay to him as well.

As he filled me in on the procedure preparations, the snow continued to collect on the ground outside. Pastor Larry’s predicted behemoth storm had arrived.

Jay Allen was filled to the brim with medical details and fascinating trivia about his visit to Cleveland. Every time I attempted to insert commentary, he babbled on about some new aspect of his adventure. By the time he’d wound down and announced he had to get ready to go to breakfast with his parents, 21

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I hadn’t uttered a single word about the Praise Petals, Godzilly, or my new friend Maggie. And I really, really needed to hear his take on the whole situation.

“Sorry, Rose. I’ll try to call again before the actual operation.

We’ve been visiting all the city landmarks and I’m getting a little scared. I know Mom and Dad are trying to make this a special trip for me, but I’m kinda getting the feeling this is like my last vacation ever. The surgery doesn’t frighten me, but all this special attention is worrisome. I wish you were here to keep me calm.”

I thought I detected a sniffle from the other end of the line, but Jay Allen recovered quickly. “So, what letter are you on? Anything good?”

Of course he was referring to my ongoing Lilly adjectives. Jay Allen had inspired this practice after reading an article about the cognitive benefits of making lists.

“B,” I answered.

I detected a giggle in his voice before he suggested “brazen,” “bold,” “bad,” and a string of unmentionables. “Take care, Rose.

I’ll be home before you know it. Love ya!”

And he was gone. Again.

22

Lisa A. McCombs

5 School was canceled Monday morning. And Tuesday. And Wednesday.

By the time Thursday’s cancellation was announced, Jay Allen’s absence had become excruciating. Even when we weren’t in the same room, his existence was comforting. He had been my extra appendage for so many years I felt the phantom pain that supposedly accompanied amputation.

Just as my mind sank into a familiar low of self-pity, Mom called, “Rose! You have a phone call!”

Like many people in our small town, the Hick’s family still had a landline, but a personal call was rare. I couldn’t fathom who this mysterious caller could be.

“Rose! Hi! What are you doing?”

Maggie Myers. Maggie Myers was calling me.

“I hope you don’t mind me calling you. I just wanted to touch base with someone on the outside world! This weather is crazy, isn’t it?” She sounded sincere. “How are the roads in town?”

My brain still full of mush, I had to pause in order to process what was happening. Maggie was calling me?

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“Rose? Are you there?”

“Uh, yes. Sorry. I’m here.”

“Well, I didn’t know how you’d feel about it, but I’m going stir crazy with a serious case of cabin fever. My family is organizing a sled riding party. We’ve got plenty of snow and loads of hills. I’ve already talked to Jasmine, and she’s game if you are. Do you think you’d be allowed if she came and got you?”

The mysterious Jasmine Jones was already a senior, having tested out of most of her core classes. She was the oldest of our predominantly tenth grade singing group.

Was Maggie’s invitation legit? I wanted to be her friend so badly, but an evil image of Godzilly kept playing out in my mind.

This would be the perfect alibi for my murder at the hands of— yep, it’s G day—the greedy, gruesome Godzilly.

“Please, please, please, say yes!”

Jasmine Jones arrived at my door an hour later, decked out in her standard black and gray. I don’t think we had ever exchanged even a head nod, so when Mom answered the door, I was shocked she asked about Jasmine’s grandmother.

Wait! What? Mom knew Jasmine’s family?

While she didn’t go into detail, Jasmine thanked Mom for her concern and promised to deliver my mother’s offer of visiting or possibly bringing in a meal or two.

“So, your grandmother and my mother are friends?” I asked as soon as we were seat-belted and on our way.

“I think they worked together at one time. At the animal shelter. Grams got all excited when I told her you were in the Praise Petals with me. But she doesn’t get out much since her diabetes got bad. So, I kind of inherited her car and do her errands now.”

I tried, inconspicuously, to take a closer look at the vehicle we were in. I don’t think it was a new model, but the interior was immaculate and smelled of expensive leather. The motor of what was obviously a well-loved sports car literally purred.

“Yeah, I know. Kinda over the top for a grandma car, right?

She always wanted a Mustang, so before Gramps died, he made 24

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certain she had one. Too bad she can no longer drive it. It’s not really my style, but…”

My anxiety level was reaching an all-time high. Just exactly how bad an idea had this been? Riding with a virtual stranger to visit an unknown place where a wealthy classmate was hosting a sled-riding party in the middle of nowhere and probably conspiring with my archenemy would no doubt be the best way to get rid of me. My stomach threatened to return the breakfast Mom had served as my last meal.

“Do you like sled riding?”

The question took me off guard. I had forgotten our end purpose in going to Maggie’s house.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been before.”

Jasmine’s tinkling laughter continued from that point until she pulled her car up to the door of an old gold and white mobile home in the middle of what appeared to be a gravel parking lot.

Where was the mansion?

“We’re here!” she sang and hopped out of the car. She headed to the crooked stack of cinder blocks at the front door.

“Oh, I hope you like cats.”

Before I could reply, Maggie threw open the rickety front door and pulled Jasmine into a tight hug.

“C’mon, Rose! Get out of the cold!”

Maggie’s home was nothing like I had imagined—and Lilly Godzilly wasn’t in evidence. The twisted story she spread made little sense—unless she really didn’t know the actual truth. Which made her a liar? A fraud? A horrendous, horrible hag.

The trailer smelled of toasty pastries and fresh lavender. A multi-colored braided rug covered what looked to be wooden laminate flooring. There was color everywhere I looked. In direct contrast to the forlorn exterior of the mobile home, it was warm and cozy.

Two teenage boys sprawled across the room-dominating sectional couch, handheld video games clutched in their hands, eyes fiercely concentrating on whatever competition held their atten25

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tion. A Siamese cat rested on the headrest between them, blue eyes flicking from left to right as the game consoles lit up randomly. Another exotic Siamese slept on the cushion between the boys, while a third feline stared up at me after thoroughly sniffing my feet.

“Ruby is our welcome cat. Looks like you’ve passed her sniff test.” Maggie laughed.

“Well, that means you’re family.” A woman who could only be Maggie’s mother wrapped an arm around me. Daisy Myers matched the Bohemian surroundings of her home. Long braided hair and bright blue eyes that ironically matched those of the Siamese kitten she held against her chest with her free arm.

“Okay!” Maggie said. “Looks like we’re all here and accounted for. Dad is waiting with the bonfire out at the pond. He left our sleds at the top of the hill. So, let’s get suited up and ready to roll!”

At that announcement, the otherwise oblivious twin boys jumped up and grabbed identical coats. Mrs. Myers tossed toboggans at them and reminded them to wear their gloves.

Jasmine wrapped a wool scarf around my neck and grabbed the thermos Maggie thrust in her direction. Mrs. Myers slipped a backpack over her shoulders, placed the kitten on the warm spot previously occupied by her sons, and shooed us toward the front door.

“The faster you tackle this mountain, the sooner we can get back here for a hot meal!”

Mountain? Bonfire? This was not sounding promising. Maybe sled riding wasn’t as fun as I had hoped.

When we reached our wooden chariots arranged neatly on the edge of what wasn’t necessarily a true mountain but high enough for me, the realization struck me that sled riding may be more treacherous than any Godzilly attack.

Parallel tracks cut into the snow and led to our goal. Maggie’s brothers did not hesitate. They piled one on top of the other before announcing their departure with a synchronized “Woo-hoo!”

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At that moment, I knew without a doubt this was not my signature sport. Heart racing and panic setting in, I frantically searched my brain for a ready excuse. I needed to pee? I lost my contact lens? I just remembered I had to make an urgent phone call? Something, anything. C’mon, Rose!

“Let’s go, girls! You’re with me, Rose!” Maggie lay down on the nearest sled, and Jasmine arranged me on top of her, ignoring my weak attempt to brush her off, before claiming her own sled.

“Here! We! Come!” Maggie yelled and pushed off, making me grasp her shoulders for dear life. My screams mingled with the verbal celebrations surrounding me, hiding the authenticity of my fear.

This was the worst day of my life.

I closed my eyes and prepared to die.

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6 “What do you mean there was no mansion?”

Jay Allen’s disbelief was not unexpected, but I really wanted to concentrate on the sledding story—mainly because he would never picture me as the daredevil on the hill that I became yesterday.

“No, Jay Allen, no mansion, but—” “But, she’s filthy rich! She has an in-ground pool and a golf course! Everyone knows that!” He was nearly shrieking now.

“Jay Allen! Pay attention.” I guess I had already gotten over the fact that Maggie’s family was nowhere near wealthy, but the love that family shared still encompassed me a day later. Just like Pastor Larry, they weren’t in-your-face religious, but they were filled with joy. They laughed at everything. They were openly grateful to be a part of life and they smiled a lot, even the twins. Without their noses buried in electronics, they were the funniest guys ever. Always jabbing at each other, fluid with sarcastic comebacks, and willing to challenge anyone around them with quirky narrative.

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“I. Do. Not. Understand. Rose! Let me get this straight. So, you’re saying that Maggie Myers is not rich? And her real name is Magnolia? I need to get home. So much stuff is happening!” Jay took a breath—a relief to me. He was nearly hyperventilating.

And it gave me a chance to talk. “Speaking of coming home, has your surgery been scheduled yet?”

After a long pause, Jay Allen used his inside voice. “No, not yet. There have been a few interruptions. Something about inconsistent test results. Oh, and my surgeon has the flu.”

His previous level of enthusiasm was obviously waning. So, I tried to get another word in wedge-wise. “And guess what? Jasmine Jones and Maggie are—” “Sorry, Rose, I have to go. Mom just said the lab is ready for another blood test. I mean, really, what does blood have to do with eye surgery? Take care! I’ll talk to you again soon!”

“But—” The phone connection clicked firmly. “Bye.” It was becoming a recurring theme, this thing of Jay Allen leaving me.

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7 “You’ve got to be kidding me! We’re supposed to get all of this done in a week? These teachers are crazy!” Lilly Jenkins had absolutely no filter. She tossed books onto the floor from her locker, oblivious to who was listening to her rant. “It’s not my fault Mother Nature blasted us with a snowstorm. C’mon! Give us a break!”

She paused long enough to notice I was there. “What are you looking at, caterpillar? You probably like all this work. It’s not like you have a social life or anything.” Evidently her week off from school hadn’t improved Lilly’s attitude.

She turned. “Oh, hey, Maggie! Long time, no see!” Godzilly practically tripped over the mountain of books on the floor trying to get to Maggie. “I bet you went stir crazy out there in the wilderness, didn’t you? It feels good to be back on the grid, huh?”

“Hi, Lilly. It wasn’t so bad. Especially the sled riding party!

Right, Rose?” Maggie flipped her head upside down and twisted a handful of hair to secure in the striped skull cap in her other hand. “I am anxious to get back to Praise Petal practice, though.

Thanks for letting me spend the weekend with you, Rose, so I 30

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can get there.”

Lilly Jenkins nearly spit out her tongue. Frantically glancing from me to Maggie, her face was ashen, save for the two boiling dots on her cheeks. As quickly as she rose to anger, her eyes lit up and that sickly Godzilly laugh burst out. “Oh, Maggie! You are so funny! Why would you spend the weekend with a freaky geek?

You had me there for a minute. Good one, Mags!” Lilly shook her head enthusiastically as she bent to retrieve all the discarded contents of her locker. She continued to chuckle to herself as Maggie and I packed our own book satchels.

“Hey, chicks, ready for your ride?” Jasmine Jones sidled up next to Maggie and me, car keys dangling from a Mickey Mouse ring. “Grams gave me the car this morning so I could stop at the market and get a few things. So, if you don’t mind a little shopping first, I’ll take you to Rose’s house.”

“That’s cool,” Maggie answered, much to the disgusted expression on Lily’s face. “We can get some homework done before it piles up and ruins the rest of the weekend.”

If Lily’s continued astonishment bothered her, she didn’t show it. But the storm cloud behind her eyes was gaining momentum.

“We’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow, Lilly?” Maggie shrugged into a worn fleece jacket, draped her vinyl backpack over one shoulder, and gently closed her locker door.

Neither she nor Jasmine witnessed the dark clouds that transformed Lilly’s features into the purest form of evil I had ever witnessed. And that evil was directed toward me.

Jasmine intertwined her arm in mine, making me feel a little safer, but I could feel the daggers penetrating my coat.

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8 “God, may you bless each and every one of these petals as we prepare for their upcoming debut. Thank you for allowing them to praise you with their talents. The friendships they form here are of your design. Keep them strong and allow their voices to ring with a joyful noise in your name. Amen.”

I glanced around our circle of Praise Petals. Lilly hadn’t returned from her request to visit the restroom. Kind of convenient that she missed prayer time before we actually began our rehearsal. Ouch. Snarky much?

I almost laughed out loud at myself.

Lilly had been surprisingly pleasant when Jasmine, Maggie, and I entered the church this morning. Pleasant in that she didn’t do or say anything to me—yet. In fact, she pretty much ignored us all, which was fine with me. So she wasn’t exactly pleasant, but P was the letter of the day, so there was no reason not to start there. In fact, I found her disinterest rather peculiar.

I had been going through the alphabet at the speed of lightning lately, doubling up on the days I ran out of words. I was 32

Lisa A. McCombs

certain that pompous and petty would also fit.

Pastor Larry was full of himself this morning. He was even bouncing on the balls of his feet as he arranged us on stage for the perfect placement. Jay Allen would be impressed.

“Okay, ladies, as soon as Lilly returns, we will run through the opening hymn. It will be perfect that you’re already up here and ready to wow the congregation with your first ever appearance.”

I was beginning to feel like this was more of a performance than an actual church function.

“That sounds a little sacrilegious,” I muttered.

“I understand your concern, Rose, but Psalm 69:30 says ‘I will praise the name of God with song and magnify Him with thanksgiving.’ Rose, there are so many Biblical references to the term song. I think I counted about seventy-five or so. But thank you for your concern and, Petals, you can thank Rose for providing the perfect Bible assignment for next week. Find ten references to praising Jesus in song for next week. In fact, Rose, your question has totally redirected Sunday’s sermon. Thank you. Can I hear an Amen!”

All eyes were on me as we chanted Amen right back at him.

“I hope Lilly is okay. She’s been gone for a while now. She might have gotten turned around and is wandering around the church. It’s easy to do when you’re not familiar with the layout.

Rose, go check on her, will you?”

I know my face told the truth of my reaction to Pastor’s request, but his enthusiasm overrode any intuition he normally had.

In fact, he didn’t even look in my direction, but continued to concentrate on moving the twins around the stage.

How could she get turned around? The bathroom was right outside the door.

Luckily, Lilly breezed into the room just at that moment.

“Whew, sor-ry! I got turned around.”

Huh? No one else seemed to think this odd, but my suspicion meter waved a red flag.

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When I glanced at Lilly, she looked right at me with an oddly pleased look on her face. In fact, she was nearly smiling at me.

Perplexing. Very perplexing.

After two hours of intense rehearsal, Pastor Larry beamed.

“Very good, ladies. That’s the best rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’ I’ve heard in a long time. The congregation is going to be very pleased.” He raised both hands. “Let us pray.”

I couldn’t help myself. I had to spy on Godzilla. Paying attention to the prayer, but with my eyes slightly open so I could see Lilly’s expression, I was shocked to see her staring right at me.

Flustered, I did my best to hide the fact that I witnessed this bizarre display from the Godzilly. What was she up to?

“Amen!” Lilly’s shout was met with a nervous round of laughter.

“See ya, chickies.” She didn’t hesitate to be the first one out the door, leaving a trail of devious laughter in her wake.

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9 Sunday morning dawned far too early, in my opinion. I suppose that’s what happens when you become a social diva. Maggie, Jasmine, and I stayed up far too late playing cards with Mom. She went to bed around eleven, turning off lights as she went and cautioning us that we had a big day ahead of us.

I think it must have been nearly two o’clock when our laughter turned to snores.

But it was fun. The most fun I’d had since Jay Allen left.

So it was not surprising that none of us were too chipper when Mom announced that breakfast was ready.

Pastor had suggested we all wear something pink to visually unite us. There had been a bit of grumbling at first, but then we agreed that pink was okay for today. Instead of choir robes, we decided our signature “uniform” would simply be everyone wearing the same flower color on the Sundays we were to sing.

If the three of us looked a bit worn around the edges, it was nothing to the frenzy that met us at the church door. Pastor was an absolute ball of nerves.

“Thank goodness you’re here! Rose, I can’t find my Bible. Do you have any idea where I might have put it? It wouldn’t be such a big deal—I mean, I know there are Bibles everywhere—but my sermon notes are in my personal Bible.”

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I immediately headed toward his office to do a thorough search.

The Bible was probably under a mound of magazines or tucked away in a desk drawer. He was so disorganized.

Even with his extensive collection of Bibles, the duct-taped one was the volume he relied on for his inspirational sermons.

Like a good luck talisman, that Bible always accompanied him to the pulpit on Sunday mornings. He likes to remind us that it holds all the answers to all the problems we will ever face in life.

An extensive search wrought nothing, and a quick look at the clock told me our time was up. One last frantic search of the desktop wielded what looked to be notes on the subject of music, the very sermon topic for today, so I grabbed them and headed back to the meeting room. Unless he had located the cherished Bible, the notes would have to do.

The Praise Petals were all waiting, so when I whirled into the room, there was a collective sigh. “This is all I could find. Sorry, Pastor Larry.”

He was literally wringing his hands. He had told me once that no matter how many times he got in front of the congregation, he was always anxious about speaking to a large group of people.

He said that public speaking was the number one fear of the human race. It was amazing how comfortable he appeared in front of a crowd, though.

“Well, girls, this is it. You will be perfect in what you offer to the Lord this morning. Are there any questions before you take your places?”

With a few errant glances at one another, we silently shook our heads no. At least, everyone but Lilly.

“Reverend, where is your Bible?” the Godzilly asked sweetly, as if she even cared or bothered to recognize Pastor Larry’s routine. Way to go, Lilly. Make him even more nervous.

Weird.

Today’s letter is W, and I plan to be especially wary of the wicked, wily Lilly this morning.

“I’m not sure, Lilly. Thank you for asking. It will turn up, I’m 36

Lisa A. McCombs

sure. Let’s have a little moment of prayer before hitting the stage.”

As we prayed, I kept my eyes slit in Lily’s direction. Her eyes were not on me, but they were wide open and rolled to the left as if in heavy thought. Probably because she was concentrating on today’s havoc.

Forgive me, God, I prayed just as Pastor offered the closing Amen of his own prayer.

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10 “He must have put the Bible on the podium earlier and just forgot,” Jasmine said at lunch on Monday as a small gathering of Praise Petals gathered at the cafeteria table we had claimed.

“I know he’s a bit disorganized, but misplacing his Bible doesn’t sound like him, does it, Rose? You know him better than the rest of us.” Maggie peeled the top off a plastic container of peaches.

“I think he was just nervous,” I replied. I spent a lot of time at the church, but I wasn’t exactly Pastor’s intimate friend. In fact, Jay Allen and I actually wondered about Pastor Larry’s social life. Do pastors have social lives?

“It all worked out fine, though,” Ivy, or was it Iris? said as she placed her tray directly across from me.

“And we sounded be-u-tee-ful!” Iris? Ivy? added, following behind her sister.

If any of the Petals noticed the odd looks our table received, not a word was said. These girls seemed quite comfortable sharing space with a freak. In fact, in their presence I didn’t feel the harshness of that stigma. It was as if my unibrow no longer existed.

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“Hey, Caterpillar, looks like you’ve been accepted at the popular table!” Lilly Jenkins slammed her tray down on the table with enough force to splash gravy on my sleeve—and reality returned.

“And it looks like you get to sit beside me. Enjoy it, now. It won’t last long.”

All eyes stared at her with disbelief. Her open rudeness was ridiculous.

When she caught the glances thrown her way, Lilly immediately laughed, elbowing me in the process. “Just kidding! Just kidding! You girls are too serious!”

Lilly attacked her school lunch as if it were the first meal she’d had in a decade.

Maggie squeezed my knee under the table.

“We really did rock the place, didn’t we?” Lilly continued as if oblivious to her hurtful comments. “Can’t wait for next week!

Hey, Caterpillar, you spend a lot of time with Pastor Larry, don’t you? What’s the deal with him anyway? A wife? A boyfriend? Any deep dark secrets you can share? And what’s with that ratty old Bible he totes around? I mean, it’s held together with duct tape.

That’s no way to advertise a Bible’s importance, is it? With so many other Bibles laying around the church, you’d think he’d get himself a new one.”

“I really don’t think any of that’s appropriate, Lilly,” Maggie said. “It’s none of our business, anyway.”

“Oh, c’mon, Mags. Aren’t you the least bit curious? I mean, the guy’s weird. Long hair? Rides a Harley Davidson motorcycle?

Single preacher? There’s something not quite right about him, and Rose, here, is just the person to find out what’s going on.” Lilly thumped me on the shoulder, causing a shiver to literally run up and down my spine. “Whadaya say, Caterpillar? Up for some detective work?”

Fortunately, the fire alarm sounded at that precise moment.

Normally, I hate it when a fire alarm interrupts lunch hour, but today the relief washed over me in waves. In fact, I didn’t care if it was actually a fire rather than one of the yearly mandatory drills.

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Maybe if the school actually burned to the ground, I wouldn’t be forced to see Lilly every day.

When Maggie caught up with me at the end of the day, she urged me not to take Lilly too seriously.

“She’s lonely, Rose. She just needs friendship. I know she’s annoying and obnoxious, but I really believe we can help her be more tolerable. I’ve been praying about that very thing.”

My heart told me Maggie was right, but my head reminded me of all the nasty things Lilly had done.

“Let’s make a pact. Pinky-swear, we will treat Lilly as a friend, ignore her negativity, and be a positive influence in her life. Let’s treat her with kindness and be patient, no matter how nasty she is.” Maggie held out her right pinky finger to seal the deal.

Once again, I knew she was right, but I just didn’t know if I could do it. Patience? Kindness? Those were words I had never used in my daily regime of assigning descriptors to Lilly Jenkins.

Maggie was asking a lot.

A deep sigh filled my lungs. I looked Maggie square in the eye as I expelled the air and intertwined my finger with hers. “Okay, pinky-swear, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to follow through.”

“Sure, you will,” Maggie insisted with a wink.

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11 The week sped by, and suddenly Praise Petals practice was upon us once again. Every day I did my best to ignore Lilly’s verbal jabs and concentrate on sublimely sending her positive attitude to the point of listing nicer adjectives in my description of the Godzilly.

Jay Allen thought I was crazy when I texted him my latest list, starting at the beginning of the alphabet, since a new resolution deserved a new start.

Admirable. (Admirably atrocious.)

Affectionate. (with her food) Appreciative. (gag!)

It wasn’t working for me, but I didn’t want to damage my new friendship with Maggie by reneging on my promise. Maggie and Jasmine were the first girlfriends I’d ever had, and even Jay Allen agreed, begrudgingly, that this was my best plan of action.

I plastered a forced smile across my face while Lilly was in my presence and concentrated on thoughts of rainbows and puppies every time she opened her mouth, which was often—often enough for me to start dreaming of my very own comfort animal. Maybe 41

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I would ask for a Cocker Spaniel for my birthday at the end of April—if I lived that long without exploding.

We all gathered in the activity hall to discuss the morning’s plans.

Of course, Lilly excused herself before opening prayer. Her bladder must be on an anti-prayer time schedule.

“Let’s begin with your Bible assignment. Tell me about praising God with song.”

Ivy/Iris twittered excitedly, hands waving wildly to be first.

If they weren’t so pretty, they could easily be Alice’s Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. “Thank you, Ivy. You go first, and then Iris will share her findings.” Since Pastor Larry managed to not look either twin the eye, it was obvious to me that he had no idea which was which.

Ah, you sly man.

Ivy? Iris? read from a neatly printed list of verses, careful to emphasize the word praise.

“Psalm 69:30 says, ‘I will praise the name of God with song and magnify Him with thanksgiving.’ Psalm 98; 4 is my favorite,” the twin said excitedly. “‘Shout joyfully to the LORD, all the earth; Break forth and sing for joy and sing praises.’”

The twins continued their findings for several minutes before abruptly coming to a halt.

“We wanted to find seventy-five, but we ran out of time. We’re sorry, Pastor Larry.” Ivy? Iris? spoke for the two of them, while her mirror image nodded in agreement.

For a moment, I thought the twins were going to break down in tears, but Pastor’s laugh immediately calmed the air.

“You did a wonderful job, girls. Not to worry. You’re not getting graded. I just wanted to show how much praise is given to God in song.”

After the overachievers were finished with their litany of verses, the rest of us released a collective sigh. I had forgotten the assignment altogether. The only other person who seemed to have anything to share was Ginger, who added a verse and a ques42

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tion. “Pastor Larry, there are so many references to shouting. How is that regarded as singing?”

“Good question, Ginger. Think about what we do when we attend a football game. We shout, don’t we? Whether it’s in disapproval or support.”

Heads bobbed all around in agreement.

“Right. Why do we do that? Because we’re excited. We’re excited to celebrate our team’s success or to encourage them to not give up hope. These Biblical shouts are shouts of encouragement.

So, shouting is not necessarily a bad thing. Which brings us to our song for the day. Please take one of these and pass them around.”

I had actually heard Shout to the Lord by Hillsong on the radio but didn’t know the words.

“Let me sing it through once for those of you who have never heard it before. If you know it, sing along.”

Ginger, Jasmine, and the twins joined Pastor with their strong vocals, filling me with emotions I didn’t know I owned. Even Lilly, who burst through the door with little notice, stopped dead in her tracks, mouth hanging open in awe, whether at the words or in response to the voices, I don’t know. But her initial smug expression of self-satisfaction—Was she that proud of her bathroom visit?—transformed into an interesting mixture of reverence and panic.

Hmmm . . . .

By the end of rehearsal, we all knew the words and continued to sing as we bundled up to leave.

“Want to go to the mall?” Jasmine asked Maggie and me as she tugged on a pair of fingerless gloves. “I’ve got the car today.

I just have to pick up a gallon of milk on the way home.” Unaware of Lilly’s proximity, Jasmine continued, “I’ll take you both home later.”

“I need to call my mom first,” I said. The mall? With Maggie and Jasmine? That’s what the cool kids did on a Saturday. Did that mean I was a cool kid now? Holding back a shiver of excitement, I grabbed my coat and took off in the direction of Pastor 43

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Larry’s office to use the phone.

That’s when my shiver of excitement turned to ice.

“Do you want to go with us, Lilly?” Maggie asked sweetly.

Whaaaat?

I looked back to find Maggie looking at me, holding up her pinkie finger, eyes raised in question.

Oh, yeah. Well, I did swear. I just didn’t realize we had to start being nice to her so soon.

A few steps from the office, a rush of cold air wrapped around my legs. When I reached the door to the office, the temperature was even colder, and I found Pastor Larry on his knees scrambling around the carpeted floor grabbing at flying papers and mumbling to himself.

“Oh, there you are, Rosebud. I’m getting so absentminded. I don’t even remember opening that window. Help me collect all this, will you?”

Pastor Larry was definitely disorganized, but not absentminded. There was no reason to open any window with the temperature outside below 30 degrees. If he had, there had to be a very good reason. One he wouldn’t forget.

And then I saw the flaw in his reasoning. One of the heavy leather chairs in the corner was overturned. The wind could not have done that. Directly across the room, a flower vase lay shattered and leaked water on a crumpled bundle of yellow roses.

This was not the scene of an errant winter wind. I smelled vandalism.

If Pastor Larry suspected anything out of the way, he didn’t share his thoughts. “It’s going to take a while to sort this out.

Guess I’m glad I had nothing else to do today.”

Of course I felt guilty for my plans with Maggie and Jasmine— and, I suppose, Lilly.

“I can stay and help. I have to call my mom anyway.”

“Absolutely not. It’s Saturday. You have other things to do. I can take care of this. You go. You girls have a good time.”

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always seemed to know things before they happened. He wasn’t even in the room when Jasmine asked if we wanted to go to the mall.

“Really, I don’t mind,” I said, even though I did.

“Go, Rose. Have fun.”

First I walked across the room and pushed the window shut.

I bent to retrieve a couple of errant church bulletins when my eye caught sight of something that didn’t belong in the office.

A tube of Burt’s Bees lip stain that could be found on the shelves of any convenience store as well as in the hip pocket of most girls at EHS rested on the floor under the edge of Pastor’s desk. This particular brand of lip product seemed to be a cult favorite among my classmates. Everyone had a special tint. It was my secret dream to sport my own yellow stick of Burt’s Bees.

I had noticed recently that Maggie’s hue of choice was champagne, which would be my second choice if I were more confident. Jasmine preferred the darker colors, which made sense with her exotic skin color.

“Get outta here, Rose. I can take care of this.”

Pastor literally shooed me in the direction of the door muttering something about the whereabouts of his missing Bible. He needed to put a GPS tracker on that thing.

On my way, I grabbed up the tube of lip stain. Without even looking at the possible identifying color, I bid his request and hurried to join the rest of the mall go-ers.

“Hey, what are you doing with my lipstick? I’ve been looking everywhere for it.” Lilly grabbed for the yellow stick in my hand.

“You need to keep your paws off my stuff.”

“B-but, Lilly, I—” “B-b-but, Caterpillar—it’s not nice to take other people’s things without asking.” Godzilly popped the top off the lip tint and blindly smeared Burt’s Bees iconic champagne hue across her pouting lips before giving her hair a dramatic flip in my face.

Interesting. If that was Lilly’s lipstick, what was she doing in Pastor’s office? I think I knew, but my thoughts were interrupted 45

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when the object of my accusation suddenly made a typical Godzilly announcement. “I call shotgun!”

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12 “Honey, I didn’t mind you going to the mall with the girls. I just wish you had called. I got nervous when the sun started going down.”

I got tingly when Mom referred to my companions as “the girls.” Never before had I belonged to a social group. Jay Allen and I had been a couple since kindergarten. The fact that I now had a group made any possible punishment worth it.

Mom didn’t give the vibe of being in the punishment mood, though. In fact, she looked rather ecstatic.

Since Maggie had applied her own champagne stain several times while we were at the mall, Lilly obviously had not lied about the found object being her property. But, why, why, had it been in Pastor Larry’s office? As far as I knew, Lilly Jenkins had never been in there.

Earlier, while roaming the aisles of the new beauty supply store, I found a new product for facial hair removal. Since every time Maggie tried to include me in the conversation, Lilly managed to monopolize the attention, it wasn’t difficult for me to be 47

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secretive. I slipped the box into a shopping basket under the cover of purchasing my own tube of Burt’s Bees lip moisturizer. Even though I stayed with a clear hue, my own yellow tube made me feel more like an honorary member of the group.

But the other purchase was mine and mine alone. Having tried several other methods of ridding myself of the monstrous growth above my eyes, waxing was the one I had avoided for far too long.

Mom would be helpful, but I needed to do this on my own.

In the privacy of my own room, I read the directions on the side of the box. It didn’t sound too awfully difficult. The pain element worried me, though. What if I got halfway through the process and just couldn’t complete the task of ripping off the offensive hair? The description was similar to ripping off a BandAid, but I knew from experience the challenge of inflicting pain on one’s self. It was always easier for someone else to do the ripping. If Jay Allen was here, he’d do it for me, most likely with a wicked smile plastered on his face. But he wasn’t. So, it was all up to me.

I had to do this.

I had to make myself more visually appealing.

Thinking of Jasmine’s beautiful skin and Maggie’s gorgeous eyes, even—I hated to admit it—Lilly’s china doll complexion made me want to be more like my new friends than ever before.

Even though Lilly was rather ugly on the inside, she was a beauty on the outside. Too bad she didn’t realize her potential.

I needed the therapy of exhausting negative energy.

Oblivious.

Obstinate.

Ogrely—Was that a word?

Obtuse.

Obscene.

Objectionable.

Maggie would probably spend time reflecting on constructive ways to handle insecurities in a more positive manner. Try to figure out what made Lilly Jenkins tick. I had a difficult time wrap48

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ping my brain around such a progressive train of thought.

Lilly obviously exhausted her own frustrations by torturing other people. I wondered what she did during her off hours. Did she read? Did she binge watch Netflix? Was there anyone at home she annoyed? Did she have a pet? Heaven forbid. What kinds of things would she do to that poor creature?

I gave myself a mental face slap. Be nice, Rose!

Since today’s letter was O, I made it my challenge to find positive “O” words. For this I needed a thesaurus, a dictionary, Google, or a miracle.

By the time I completed my project, my eyes were foggy and my brain fuzzy. I pushed the box of hair wax under the bed for another day and wrapped myself snuggly in a down comforter, ready to be washed over with sleep.

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13 “Good morning, Church of Go!” Pastor Larry announced at precisely eleven a.m. As the church bells tolled outside, congregants scrambled to find a seat. Since the late service rarely began on time, excited confusion filled the air. I felt like something big was about to happen.

“Yes, please find a seat. I have news to share.”

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the movie screen at the front of the sanctuary illuminated. A familiar voice emitted from the speakers, and my breath stilled.

“Good morning, church friends. I just wanted you to know that I’m fine, but a little scared. My surgery has been delayed, but Pastor Larry and I already had this I can’t do it planned and we decided to forge ahead in case In two hours, I will be later. I never believed this surgery would or could happen would happen. If this is successful—no—when it is successful—my eyes will be perfectly aligned and I’ll be able to see like everyone else.” Jay Allen tried to smile, but I saw that little tell-tale tremor in the corner of his mouth. He was nervous. And he was on the drop-down video screen right there in front of me.

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He gulped once or twice, and I knew he was trying to regain his composure. “I don’t mind telling you I’m scared. You all would be, too. I just wanted to give you the before picture while I can. I miss you all and can’t wait to get back home.” Tears twisted down the center of his face and dripped off his nose.

I forced my own tears aside and smiled into my cupped hands.

A glance back at the screen gave me all I could ask for. A last look at Jay’s cross-eyed image. I wondered again what he’d look like when he focused straight on me.

“So, have a nice Sunday, and I’ll talk to you later.”

It was as if Jay Allen pinned me down with his crooked stare and a little wave in what I swore was in my direction. I instinctively waved back, even though he couldn’t see me.

“That’s wonderful, Rose!” Maggie whispered in my ear and grabbed my shoulder for a tight squeeze. Even though she really didn’t know Jay Allen, it was public knowledge that he and I were basically joined at the hip.

Before I could stop it, tears rolled down my face. Not only did I miss my friend so much, I felt guilty about spending so much time with my new friends rather than writing to him constantly. I couldn’t remember ever being without his company. Even when he annoyed me to no end, Jay Allen was the best friend ever. I should not be getting ready to sing my heart out with the Praise Petals when he was basically minutes away from anesthesia.

“Give it a break, Caterpillar. Jay Alien isn’t worth all the bother,” Lilly Jenkins hissed in my other ear.

For the first time in my life, I felt a working, uncontrollable heat rise through my entire body. Normally, I would let the heat simmer until I could reach a neutral location in which to vent my feelings. My favorite thing to do when Lilly got to me like this was to throw the various pillows on my bed at the wall until I felt better.

There were no pillows in sight right now, though. There was nothing near to throw, no mattress to punch, no floor to slap.

There was only Lilly.

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The look on her face when I turned to her was one of shock.

Just the idea of me actually daring to respond to her unnerved both of us. No one talked back to Lilly Jenkins. So, I did the next best thing.

Not wasting breath on words, I pushed her.

Hard.

And when she came back at me, Maggie jumped between us.

In my new brave mind, I didn’t want anyone to intervene. In my rational head, I needed that intervention. I had absolutely no idea how to fight.

“Easy, girls.” Pastor Larry commented softly from the sidelines. “This is not the time nor the place. We will talk about this after the service. Go shake it off. It’s time to sing.”

If anyone in the congregation was witness to the near brawl, I didn’t see it on their faces. Luckily, the Petals were still partially hidden behind a stage curtain.

Maggie stayed between Lilly and me as we arranged ourselves for the opening hymn. The rest of the hour was a blur. I kept my eyes firmly focused forward.

If there were a message in the sermon, which I was sure there was, it eluded me. All I could think about was Jay Allen’s hopeful face and Lilly’s awful, awful attitude. Jay Alien? Where did she get that name? Ridiculous. If there was an alien about, it definitely wasn’t Jay Allen.

Hot anger coursed up my arms and into my chest. I tried to divert my mind with daily adjectives. Having no idea which letter I was on, I just grabbed the first one that came to mind. Lilly Jenkins was horrible, hateful, harassing, harmful, heinous— “Helpless. Lilly Jenkins is helpless, Rose.” Maggie’s soft whisper brought me back to myself.

“Did I really say all that out loud?” Mortification moment number two for the morning.

“No one heard you but me.”

Maggie linked her arm through mine as we walked toward the activity hall for our routine post-service meeting. I felt a certain dread at what our personal message would be today. There 52

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was no excuse for my behavior, nor for Lilly’s. I didn’t look forward to what he’d say to us today. Probably not, “Good job, Petals!”

I also dreaded looking Lilly in the eye. She had won. I let myself lower to her level. And I felt like I owed her an apology for doing so, but how did I do that? Apologize for taking up for myself ? If he wasn’t too angry with me, I decided to privately ask Pastor Larry that very question after the impending inquisition.

“Matthew 6:14-15 tells us, ‘For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forget your sins,’” Pastor quoted before saying anything else.

“No matter what the issue, remember that whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”

Pastor Larry stood before us, hands raised, eyes downcast and closed.

Seconds of silence ticked gently into a full minute as this man remained in silent reflection. No one spoke, not knowing what to think. Were we supposed to be praying as well? Were we supposed to prepare for a mini-sermon? Was our time here done for the day? There was not a cough, sneeze, sniffle, or nervous giggle as we waited for direction. We didn’t know what was going on.

Suddenly Pastor clapped his hands near his chest, looking much like the Yogi I often believed he was.

“Have a great week, girls. All will be well. We will meet again soon.”

Nothing. Nada. Not a word about the service, Jay Allen, or the pre-service war that still left me quivering with emotion.

We were simply dismissed—I suppose to work things out on our own.

Under the weight of my heavy eyebrow, I tried to look around the room for Lilly, wondering if Pastor Larry’s words meant anything to her. Was she suffering inside as much as I? Did she feel 53

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guilty? Did she feel helpless?

Low, careful murmuring filled the room. Maggie gently placed her hand on my shoulder.

Most of the girls already had their coats and were bidding one another goodbye. No one looked at me, but Maggie kept close.

I didn’t see Lilly in the room at all, or even in the distance of the long hallway from which we had come from the sanctuary.

Her disappearing act was becoming famous.

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned.

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14 The longer something in your head smolders, the worse it gets.

Know what I mean? Likewise, the longer between doing something bad and apologizing, the more difficult it is to make that apology. The imminent weight of doom accompanies an otherwise well-laid plan.

Well, that’s how I felt this day. If there were any way to fake an illness, I would willingly play it out in order not to go to school.

I did not want to see Lilly Jenkins—ever again. What did I say to her if the occasion presented itself ? Did I totally ignore—oh, right, I already do that as much as possible on any given day.

But today was crucial.

I pushed Lilly Jenkins. I had been physical with her—and made a spectacle on top of it all. In church, of all places. That’s how I showed my Christianity. Good role model, Rose.

By lunch, I realized I didn’t have anything to worry about.

Lilly was nowhere to be found. By the final class of the day, my anxieties had calmed. I entered French class with a bit more confidence.

A quick glance to the back of the room proved Lilly was not present.

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As Mademoiselle called roll, I detected an unusual tremor in her voice. Maggie and I exchanged looks, both aware something was just not right. Mademoiselle was always poised. And she rarely ever called roll—unless she wanted us to practice our conversational French by responding to her.

Today she didn’t request our response a la François. When she got to the last name of the class list, Mademoiselle actually touched under each eye with a tissue before addressing us.

“The home of Lilly Jenkins burned to the ground late last night. As far as I know, Mademoiselle Jenkins is fine physically, but I am certain she will need much love in the coming days. She and her parents lost everything in this horrible, horrible accident.

We will talk more tomorrow of how we can help the Jenkins family. Now, class, turn to page… .”

The rest of Mademoiselle Bouffant’s words filtered into the air around me, not meaning much of anything at all.

I was convinced my guilt would burn me to the ground, much as Lilly’s house had hours before.

Mom met me at the door, wringing her hands.

“Oh, Rose, honey, I can’t believe what happened to your friend’s house! What is that poor family going to do?”

Lilly? My friend? Of course, in times of tragedy, I guess we are forced to re-examine our perspectives. But, to label Godzilly as any sort of friend went far beyond reality.

“Pastor called earlier and is having a church meeting this afternoon. We must go. The Jenkins are there now. Pastor has offered them use of the guest suite until things get settled.”

Last year, our church had built a guest accommodation for situations such as this or for traveling visitors. Complete with a spacious bathroom, a large bedroom, a little sitting room, and a tiny kitchenette, it could be used as a small apartment.

“They seem to be rather proud people, though. There’s a fine line between helping and offending, sometimes.”

Mom continued to move around the room, gathering toiletry items in a large canvas bag.

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“Okay, I think that’s all I have laying around, but at least they will have some personal items wherever they choose to go. You go grab that box of snacks—oh, and that grocery bag full of fruit—and let’s head over there.”

Now? She meant immediately? Not even a chance to take a breath? Or pee?

That’s my mother. All action.

But, she was right. This was a very important meeting.

The church was not only filled with church members, but teachers, students, the principal, and several faces I didn’t know.

Small towns were like that. Maggie and Jasmine spotted me and frantically waved me over for a group hug.

“Rose, this is so awful!” Maggie kept her arm around me when Jasmine withdrew to wipe a tear from her face. Jasmine didn’t show emotion much, so this action surprised me. It wasn’t as if she and Lilly were close.

“That poor man. He must have been terrified, stuck in that chair and not able to save his dog.” Jasmine sniffed and nodded toward an older man bent over in a wheelchair and surrounded by a group of people I recognized from the town’s VFW. They marched in all the parades and had weekly meetings at the town fire department. A thin woman stood behind him, hand on his shoulder, and silently listened to the words being offered by a man wearing a VFW hat.

“What do you mean? Who is he?” I asked no one in particular.

All of the sudden Lilly Godzilly Jenkins materialized at the other side of the wheel chaired man. She wore pajamas and a huge sweatshirt. I then realized the man and the woman were also in night clothes and an assortment of ratty outerwear.

Lilly curled the man’s fingers around what I assumed was a cup of something hot and kissed his forehead before joining the blond woman.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming today. God has a way of turning a tragedy into a time to rejoice.” Pastor gestured toward the bedraggled threesome. “The Jenkins have certainly experi57

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enced a tragedy, but we must rejoice in the spirit of our little town by coming together as the family we are. Hot drinks, sandwiches, and desserts are available for one and all.” Pastor indicated the food table with a nod of his head.

“For the time being, Audrey, Tom, and Lilly will be residing in the church’s guest suite, but they still need essentials for daily living. Any and all clothing donations are encouraged. The church is providing a list of sizes and needs, so make sure you get a copy.”

I hazarded a glance Lilly’s way, but she was busy talking with her … parents? Grandparents? That situation was not yet clear to me. The man and woman were older than most parents of kids my age. And the wheelchair had me stumped. Other than that, they looked like normal people and not the creator of a Godzilly.

Although I didn’t mind reassessing my perception of detail, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t wrong about Lilly Jenkins. She was absolutely a mean-spirited individual, yet here she was hovering over her family like the most obedient of children.

“The dog died in his arms,” Jasmine murmured quietly. “I guess the smoke was just too much.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Who are those people?”

“I didn’t know until this morning when Mom told me,” Maggie said. “Lilly’s birth parents died a long time ago in a horrible accident. These people are her grandparents, who took her in and raised her. Mr. Jenkins is a Desert Storm veteran.”

That explained the VFW members.

“Mom knew her grandmother. I guess she went to high school with Lilly’s mother, but doesn’t remember her very well since she dropped out of school her sophomore year,” Maggie continued.

Wow. The mysteries of Lilly’s life kept building a surprisingly intriguing tale.

“Lilly evidently helps her grandmother care for Mr. Jenkins.

It’s hard to imagine Lilly caring for anyone,” Jasmine said—and immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

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But it was funny—and true—so true.

Lilly Jenkins caring for anyone or anything other than herself was definitely a joke.

But, here she was … Lilly Godzilly Jenkins, bent over a military hero and holding onto her grandmother’s hand. The picture of devotion and goodness. Norman Rockwell, stand back.

“We here at Sacred Sanctuary have recently welcomed a group of very special young ladies called the Praise Petals. Lilly is a member of this group. Our fearless organizer, Ginger Scarletti, will be working with the Petals to organize various events for Lilly, so Ivy, Iris, Maggie, Jasmine, and Rose, please come join Ginger. The rest of you, help yourselves to the refreshments and visit with the Jenkins family at this time.”

When I found my mother two hours later, she acted like her life was complete with so much purpose. That’s Kendra Hicks, the woman everyone can count on in the time of crisis. Her organizational skills are top notch and nothing makes my mom shine like a reason to be useful.

Ginger proposed an idea to gift Lilly with weekend sleepovers as a way to take her mind off this disaster. It was a great idea— for anyone other than the Godzilly. There was no way I could imagine inviting to her my home, let alone sleep near her. I needed to set Mom straight on that—pronto.

By the time we arrived home, I was exhausted.

My bed had never felt as good as it did when I finally wrapped up my freshly-showered body under flannel sheets.

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15 Saturday dawned cold and wet. If I hadn’t had choir practice, I would’ve gladly popped in my ear pods and listened rather than sing the morning away. It was just one of those days.

Instead, I layered myself into a human burrito and scuttled off into the cold.

Jasmine’s Mustang was in the parking lot. I wished we were close enough that I felt comfortable calling her for a ride. But it wasn’t that long a walk, and I needed a few mind-clearing minutes to prepare myself for the sight of Godzilly.

Surprisingly enough, that very creature met me at the door and ushered me in as if I were an expected guest.

“Come right in, Rose. The other girls are already here. We’re having scones and tea in the kitchen.”

Her cheerful attitude was the last thing I wanted to witness.

She had just suffered a horrible disaster, for goodness sakes. Where was her pride?

“There she is,” an equally cheerful voice greeted me from behind the giant chrome island in the center of the industrialsized kitchen.

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Several baking dishes overflowed with freshly baked pastries.

The rest of the girls held or were in close proximity to steaming mugs of something hot. There wasn’t much conversation, other than Lilly and her mother attempting small talk.

“Top of the morning, Morning Glories! It is a beautiful day to be alive!” Pastor’s admiration for early mornings had been the topic of debate for Jay Allen and me. Where I found a common link with Pastor Larry’s love of mornings, Jay Allen usually spent the majority of church visits waking up.

In a hurry to relieve myself from any unexpected dialogue with Lilly, I hurried to Pastor’s side. “Want me to organize today’s music? Your office probably needs a bit of straightening as well.”

“Relax, Rosebud. Have a cup of hot chocolate. Lilly and I took care of this morning’s preparations. Take the day off.” Pastor winked at Lilly and patted me on the shoulder. “We were up quite late last night, what with all the commotion, and found it soothing to occupy our minds and hands.”

A glance at Lilly did not reveal the so-expected smirk. She actually didn’t seem all that thrilled for the attention. What was going on with that?

But her butting in on my turf was going to stop. I was sorry her house burned down. I was sorry her dad/granddad was in a wheelchair. I was sorry all her earthly possessions no longer existed. But this was my church and Larry was my pastor. If Lilly thought she had a new and superior role in tormenting me, she had crossed the line. This deserved more than a minor push to the chest. This was war.

The Church of Go was my sanctuary. It was my safe place where influences such as hers were not welcome.

My feelings must have been apparent because Maggie scooted against me for a quick half hug.

“Thank you, Audrey, for the lovely baked goods to start our morning,” Pastor Larry said with a nod to Lilly’s grandma. “This kitchen hasn’t smelled this good in a long time.”

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a little prayer, and then, Ginger, you grab your guitar and we’ll sing the roof of this place!”

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16 By mid-week, the commotion about Lilly Jenkins’s house fire was dying down—at least to most. I’m certain it was still and yet to be the headline story in the lives of Audrey, Tom, and Lilly Jenkins. Something like that didn’t just go away. In the meantime, they were settled nicely into their temporary home.

It wasn’t difficult avoiding Godzilly in her time of ultimate public curiosity. To the average EHS student, Lilly’s circumstances were highly sympathetic. Classmates went out of their way to offer condolences, share lunches, and basically be the best support group ever. I had to wonder how many other victims the Godzilly had collected over the years. As far as I could tell, Jay Allen and I fell into a very small group.

The Praise Petals continued to gather for lunch in the cafeteria. Ginger popped in when she wasn’t committed to a club meeting. The twins always showed up, even if they rarely contributed to the conversation. And when they did, it was only Ivy? Iris? who spoke. Jasmine was also becoming more social and didn’t hide underneath head apparel as much. Of course, Maggie was 63

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always there. Always talking. Always observing and offering kind words. She was such an awesome person. I found it difficult to believe Maggie Myers was anything but genuine.

On Thursday at lunch, Lilly pointed at me. “Hey, Cat—uh, Rose, did you finish that English paper? I really hate writing cause and effect.”

All eyes were on me. Lilly and I rarely spoke to one another, making her direct address surprising. Maggie even raised a silent eyebrow in question.

I swallowed the glob of irritation stuck in my throat. “Yeah, I finished it last night.”

“Good. Don’t forget to study for that math test tomorrow.”

I quickly dropped my gaze to the half-eaten PBJ sandwich on the napkin in front of me. Did she expect me to comment? Not trusting Lilly’s tactics, I kept my eyes down and pretended to be fascinated with my sandwich crust.

When the bell rang for the next class, everyone scattered to toss lunch garbage and hurry off to class. Ginger reminded us to wear school colors for tomorrow’s pep rally, and the twins nodded in unison before disappearing into the crowded hall. Maggie and Jasmine were in the restroom for a quick wash up, and I was all alone with Lilly, who hadn’t offered to make room for me to walk around.

“I really like your sweater, Rose. You’ve got good taste.”

I hastily looked down at my chest to see what I was wearing.

Please be a nice one with no stains or tears or childish slogans, I told myself before raising my eyes in question to Godzilly.

But she was gone, blond head bobbing along in a cluster of EHS co-eds scrambling to class.

I shook my head in confusion. Had Godzilly just complimented me?

Before I could process the event, Maggie appeared by my side and threw another twist at my already twisted quandary.

“We need to be tender around her for a while. I cannot imagine what she’s going through. She’s got to be a little jealous of us 64

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right now. She’s had everything torn away from her and here we are still wearing our own clothes and living in our own homes.”

Lilly, jealous? Of me?

“You’re crazy.” I tried to smile. “There is no way she’s jealous of me.”

“I don’t know, Rose. Why would she treat you like she does if she wasn’t jealous?”

Making a face of complete confusion, I shook my downcast head and blinked back the tears that threatened.

How could anyone be jealous of me?

“Think about it, Rosebud,” Maggie whispered in my ear. “It’s not that unbelievable. You are a pretty great gal.”

“See ya later, ‘gator,” Jasmine added in my other ear before the two of them, arms linked, made their way down the opposite corridor.

“After while, crocodile,” I whispered to no one and wiped away that one errant tear that braved its way down my cheek.

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17 I stared at the big red D that adorned the front of the geometry exam on my desk. Even though math had never been my subject, I always seemed to pull out an acceptable grade. Every time I looked at my notes last night, though, all I could see was Lilly walking away from me after giving me a compliment.

It didn’t dawn on me until this morning that the sweater she had worn was actually a cast off from my own closet. Mom had gathered a bag of clothes I no longer wore for the donation box at church. I wondered if Lilly had any idea that her new wardrobe was compliments of the Caterpillar.

I didn’t like to believe it, but for some reason, mine and Lilly’s lives were beginning to meld one into another. We had inadvertently assigned ridiculous nicknames to one another. Now we were sharing the same wardrobe. Which shouldn’t offend her since she thought I had good taste—unless she was being snarly when she’d said that. I didn’t like the way things were aligning.

“Miss Hicks, are you still with us?” Mr. Blair’s voice cut through my thoughts, drawing my gaze back to the offensive test score in 66

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front of me.

Wolfgang Blair had taught at EHS forever, leaving fond memories in the minds of practically the entire population of Ellison.

He was a kind, funny, giant of a man who, if you didn’t know him, would be an intimidating physical force—but he was really a big teddy bear.

He wasn’t cruel and rarely displayed anger, but his oversized hands and imposing presence demanded respect to the point of creating a need to always please, making my poor academic performance that much more painful. I didn’t like disappointing him— or anyone, for that matter.

“Your score surprises me.” Mr. Blair bent low at my desk and spoke softly so only I could hear him. “I am always in my room after school if you would like to come to me for help” Before I could summon an answer, we were interrupted by the dismissal bell. I managed a small smile before nodding in acceptance of his offer and heading off for the last class of the day.

But things weren’t much better there. French class always put a lift in my day, but this particular day wasn’t ending soon enough.

Lilly had rattled me far too much, and I couldn’t help but question her sincerity.

I wished for the hundredth time that Jay Allen was here to sort things out for and with me. I hadn’t heard from him in days— but I had to believe all was fine with him. Lilly was taking up too much of my mental and emotional time.

On impulse, I left campus after the final bell and walked in the direction of Pastor Larry’s little stone cottage behind the church. If he was home, I would stop for a brief visit. I just needed venting time—accompanied by a constructive comment or two.

The sun was out and warming the earth, but it was still too cold for a Harley ride, yet I found my minister outside armed with a bucket of sudsy water and a sponge, cleaning his black and chrome steed.

“Hey, Rosebud, what brings you here on this glorious Friday afternoon?” He wore a Kelly green rain slicker over a heavy fleece 67

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jacket, with a toboggan covering his dark hair.

“It’s a little chilly for vehicle washing, isn’t it?” My nose was running from the brisk walk, and I didn’t have a tissue in any of my pockets. If I was alone, I would probably do the unthinkable and swipe at my face with a coat sleeve.

“Y’know, you’re right. I guess the sunshine fooled me into thinking it was time to think about a ride. Brrr. Silly me.” He wrung out his sponge and tossed it toward the bucket before gesturing for me to follow him inside the house.

I had only been there once before, but remembered the warmth of the little abode. It was charming with its English cottage influence of hardwood flooring, ornamental throw rugs, and an abundance of house plants and hanging herbs. Pastor Larry hung up his wet slicker and removed the heavy coat, encouraging me to do the same.

“Let’s have a mug of chocolate. What say you?”

I nodded vigorously and reached for the tissue box on the hutch inside the front door.

“What’s on your mind, girlfriend?”

It tickled me how the good minster could be so comfortable with both the younger and older generations. He would be such a great father figure—which steered my thoughts toward the constant debate over his choice of living without a mate.

“Oh, I just don’t know.” Walking around his cozy living room/ library, I touched the spines of several leather-bound books while figuring out what I needed to say.

Finally, I turned and faced him. “I’m just so confused, Pastor Larry.” And the tears came. Tears of frustration. Tears of confusion and anxiety. Tears that had been cultivating probably since Jay Allen found out about his surgery. It just all came together in one enormous flood of released emotions. It wasn’t just one thing that bothered me. It was a textbook full of things.

Pastor Larry engulfed me in his strong arms and patted my back, murmuring words of encouragement. And I believed him.

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I tried to discreetly blow my nose.

“So, Maggie thinks Lilly is jealous of you, huh? Well, that’s not so farfetched, Rosebud. You’re a wonderful role model. I wouldn’t be bothered by that at all, although jealousy is a sin.”

Pastor pointed to a hand-painted wooden sign on the far wall.

1Corinthians 13:4 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant.

“I’ve known Lilly’s family for years. My senior year in high school, Tom Jenkins, Lilly’s grandfather, came to a special assembly for seniors. His army unit was preparing to deploy to the Middle East, and he was leaving us with words of encouragement to think about upon graduation. I remember being so impressed with his courage and enthusiasm to go to a war that didn’t really seem to me to have anything to do with America—very similar to the Vietnam conflict way back when. I liked his uniform, but I liked his motorcycle even more. He taught me how to ride his Harley before leaving the country, and that’s what sold me on life with a Hog. As soon as I saved enough money, I bought my first bike, much to the chagrin of my dad.” Pastor laughed softly at the memory.

“Tom was gone for a long time, but I thought of him often.

As I worked my way through freshman year at university, my Harley got me to and from the Morgantown campus. When people discovered that my life goal was to become a minister, they laughed at the idea of a man of God riding a Harley Davidson. Dad thought it was an outrage, but finally conceded that all bikers don’t live up to their bad reputation. He didn’t fully support my lifestyle, but was open to the possibilities of my future.”

Pastor paused to sip his chocolate. “By the time Tom returned to the States, I was fully involved in seminary and my own selfish attitude. I kind of forgot about him. So, when I ran into him again a few years ago at a Bikers for Christ meeting, I was stunned to learn he’d lost his leg in the war. I told him what an impact he’d made on me way back when and apologized for losing touch with him. That’s when he told me about his granddaughter, Lilly.”

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I adjusted my legs under me on the black leather sectional that pretty much dominated the room.

“Tom told me his son had run off with a girl, who was involved in drugs, which he became involved with as well. When she found out she was pregnant, they felt their only recourse was to drop off the baby at the firehouse and skip town. Tom and Audrey were contacted and immediately took the baby. She was addicted to whatever substances the mother enjoyed, and spent several months in and out of the hospital for rehabilitation. But it didn’t matter to Tom and Audrey. They loved her as if she were their own. But, it’s been a rough road.”

His story was riveting, but it wasn’t until that very moment I realized who the baby was.

I basically stumbled home, shell-shocked by what I’d learned about Godzilly. Of course, Lilly’s name wasn’t mentioned at all during Pastor’s story, but it was obvious. Due to matters of confidentiality and the very fact that Pastor Larry didn’t spread stories to add fuel to any given fire, I understood his caution.

He told me Lilly had been a drug baby without releasing her identity.

Mind blown.

Of course, my conscience refused to allow this info to go any further.

Not fair! Not fair! All this juicy information and I can’t tell anyone!

This information needed to be shared. At least with Jay Allen.

He wouldn’t be back in Ellison until after the end of the school year. He didn’t talk to anyone besides me, so surely Lilly’s secret was safe with him.

But when I dialed him up for a Skype chat, he didn’t answer.

If I talked to Mom about it, I was afraid she might get the wrong idea about my newfound knowledge. And Maggie was just too close to the situation. So, for now, I was forced to be sole keeper of this unfortunate story.

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to interfere with my studies, I felt sure I was going to need professional help in controlling my tongue. This was just too big to keep inside.

Since there was not an option to share my news, I spent Friday night reading my Bible, inwardly hoping this would make up for my most recent negative thoughts. As I readied for bed, I was prepared for another night of tossing and turning and inevitable nightmares.

My bedtime prayers were more passionate than normal.

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18 The pouring rain woke me early the next day.

That’s definitely gonna make a bike ride to rehearsal uncomfortable, I said to my empty room and grabbed an extra sweatshirt.

“Hey, Rose, I’m going to drive you to church, if that’s okay. I want to talk to Audrey,” Mom said from the hallway.

Perfect. I hoped this turn of luck was an indication of how the morning would go. There was no way I could look Pastor in the eye after being enlightened yesterday. And how was I supposed to behave around Lilly and her grandmother? Were they aware that Pastor knew what he knew?

I felt like I carried a landmine in my head.

Unlike last week, no one met us at the church door. There were no yummy smells filling the halls. Mom accompanied me to the activity hall, where she set the coffee pot in motion before retrieving two Church of Go-decaled ceramic mugs.

“I’m going to take Audrey a cup of coffee. If you’re ready to go home before I am, come get me at the guest suite.” She landed a swift kiss on my forehead and continued preparing her morning gift.

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I had no idea why she was visiting Mrs. Jenkins, but decided it wasn’t any of my business. Did Mom know about Lilly’s biological parents? I almost felt like I had been betrayed if she did, but once again, I reminded myself whose business that was. Not mine.

Besides, if Mom was aware of the animosity between Lilly and me, she never mentioned it.

Not even three minutes after Mom left for the guest suite, Lilly entered the hall and went directly for the coffee pot. Even though I’m sure it would be okay to drink the stuff, I hadn’t acquired a taste for it. Lilly loaded her cup with several heaps of sugar and a generous dollop of milk before topping it off with a splash of coffee.

The silence grew to the proverbial elephant in the room of discomfort, forcing me to ease into acknowledgement of our presence.

“Good morning, Lilly.” My voice sounded far too loud in my ears. I didn’t know if it was because the room’s acoustics echoed the sound or if I had actually intensified the greeting.

“Oh, yeah, hi.”

I didn’t recognize this subdued version of Godzilly. She seemed distracted and not quite alert. Maybe she wasn’t a morning person? Didn’t sleep well? Forgot to take her nasty pill? Needed her coffee-flavored milk? Whatever the case, this was not the Lilly Jenkins I knew.

“How are you this morning?” I didn’t really want to strike up a conversation with her, but I was on a mission to be friendlier.

After all, if she was truly jealous of me, it was my responsibility to live up to her opinion and be the best version of myself I could be.

The expression on her face was enough to halt any further attempts at socialization.

Fortunately, the twins burst through the door at that exact moment, cutting short the need for further verbal exertion.

“It’s really raining out there!” The look-alikes were drenched.

One big, soggy mess of dripping water.

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“It looks like you walked all the way. That was pretty stupid.”

There she was. Godzilly was back, but this time attacking someone other than me.

Ivy? Iris? looked stunned at the rudeness Lilly shot their way, obviously unaccustomed to being the recipients of such behavior.

“What? Well, it’s the truth. It’s a monsoon out there. Why didn’t you call one of us to come get you?”

Wow. Just…wow.

“Oh, are we a taxi service now?” Pastor Larry entered, looking exceptionally savvy for a Saturday morning choir rehearsal.

“Of course we will give you a ride any time, Ivy. Ur…Iris.”

His smile brightened up he room.

The four of them burst out in spontaneous laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Jasmine asked as she and Maggie joined the rest of our little group congregated around the center island in the kitchen.

“Oh, just a bit of humor for this soggy morning.” Lilly brightened up from her most recent attitude of surly and sour. “We’re giving the twins a hard time for walking here in the rain when they only live two doors down. They’d be just as wet getting in and out of a car as they are now.”

Well, I guess the joke is on me. Lilly evidently knew where the girls lived and was sharing this knowledge with her landlord. I had forgotten the twins lived right next door. Lilly’s role reversal was really messing with my mind. Now I was more paranoid than normal. Not good. Not good at all, Rose.

“Well, preacher man, you’re looking pretty snappy today. You got a hot date?” Lilly treating Pastor Larry as our contemporary continued to surprise me. Once again, though, it bothered me and not the person to whom she directed it.

All eyes were now on Pastor, who had turned rather pinkish at the attention. He looked down at his ironed, button-up shirt and wiped at invisible lint on the sleeve of his black sports blazer.

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Levi’s. And his black jeans were even pressed!

An uncomfortable silence infiltrated the intimacy of our circle.

“It’s no big thing,” Pastor answered Lilly’s blunt inquiry. “I’m meeting my folks for brunch after practice this morning. Thought I’d get spruced up a bit for my mother. Now, let’s get those voices warmed up and see what we’ve got this fine morning.”

Although his simple explanation sounded legit, I got the impression there was more to the story. As I put a lid on my Styrofoam cup of English Breakfast tea, Lilly caught my eye and gave me a little wink. She was sporting a suspicious little grin, and I then knew there was definitely more to the story. I surprised myself by smiling back as if Lilly and I shared a fun little secret.

Pastor Larry left rehearsal promptly at 11:30 and didn’t return. I didn’t have to retrieve Mom, because I found her and Mrs. Jenkins giggling in the kitchen. It looked like Audrey Jenkins and Kendra Hicks were already working on a friendship.

“You sounded real pretty from here!” Mrs. Jenkins greeted us.

She, or Mom, or both had wrapped up individual bundles of freshly baked banana bread for each of us.

“Want me to drive you home?” Jasmine asked the twins, and we all erupted into laughter. Ivy/Iris turned a delicate shade of pink and giggled in response.

We left the church filled with the good tidings that church was meant to give.

“We’ll see everyone tomorrow.” Mom raised a hand in the direction of the island meeting. It really had been a good morning.

When I looked back toward my group of new friends, Lilly had her gaze fixed right on me. With a little smile she waved a hand in conspiracy. I didn’t know what to think, but I planned not to dwell on this new development.

Yeah, right.

I stepped out of the bathtub, warm with the memory of bubbles, and put on my comfy flannel jammies. My phone jingled with one of the more annoying tunes Jay Allen and I had down75

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loaded one afternoon when we had nothing else to do. We had spent over an hour selecting tunes and assigning them to contacts who never called us anyway. And since no one ever called either of us, we had fun choosing tunes. He selected a heavy metal song.

I chose “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,”—mainly because a random call would actually make me happy.

I raced to my bedside table. “Hello?”

“Rose? Are you there?” the familiar voice of Lilly Jenkins asked.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Good. I wasn’t sure I had the right number.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“So, what do you think about Pastor Larry all dressed up this morning? Do you really believe he was meeting his mom?”

Gossip and small talk didn’t interest me. I actually had no idea how to participate in what Jay Allen would call canoodling.

“He did look nice.” Lame, but it was all my brain would give me.

“Duh, yeah, he looked nice. But why? You would know better than any of us. Has he ever done this before?” She snorted. “Just out of nowhere, he decided to look like he’d just walked off the pages of GQ?” If I asked what GQ was, I was definitely setting myself up for a lengthy barrage of insults, so I kept my mouth shut and let Lilly continue her speculations.

“He really is a hot dude, even if he is a preacher. Why is he still single? You need to find out for me.”

As if I would ever do anything for you.

“Why don’t you meet me at the church later and we’ll do some sleuthing?”

Was she crazy?

“Are you crazy?” The words popped out of my bran into my mouth before I could think twice.

“It wouldn’t be a crime to clean Pastor L’s office for him, would it? If we come across anything of interest in the process it 76

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wouldn’t be our fault, would it? I’ll see you there at eight tonight.

Ciao!”

Before I could offer a protest, Lilly disconnected to leave me shaking my head. There was no way I would meet her at the church for after dark office cleaning.

Thirty minutes later, my flannels exchanged for a pair of bluejeans and a bulky sweatshirt, I silently let myself into the side door of Sacred Sanctuary. Pastor Larry always left it unlocked, but few people were privy to that information.

Glancing at the digital wall clock, I affirmed that I was a few minutes early and hoped that I could waylay Lilly’s plan to ransack Pastor’s office for clues into his personal life.

The amber hued desk lamp indicated a presence there, but there was s no body attached to that semi-fact.

I crept across the threshold, holding my breath.

As I neared the desk, a small sound alerted me that I definitely was not alone.

Cautiously turning my head toward the unmistaken sound of a sniffle, I saw Lilly in the corner arm chair. Arms wrapped around Pastor Larry’s missing worn Bible, she was as of yet unaware of my presence.

“I’m still looking for answers, God,” she whispered. “Pastor said they were in here, but I can’t find them.”

She freed one hand to wipe her face before stretching the Bible toward the floor.

Suddenly the overhead light flooded the room with illumination and Pastor Larry greeted us from the office door.

“Well, hello, ladies.” He sounded surprised and I hoped it was sincere.

“To what do I owe this surprise?” Pastor crossed the room to his desk before either Lilly or I could answer. “I was all ready for a night of binge watching Netflix when I remembered something I had to do before tomorrow.”

Pastor dug underneath his desk before emerging with a cardboard box. “I’m glad you’re here. You can help me sort these.”

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He slit the top of the box with the edge of a letter opener and began unloading multiple copies of a coral colored book.

“Ah, and look who’s on top!” Pastor winked up at a red-faced Lilly. “Let’s trade, okay?”

He offered Lilly a pretty copy of what appeared to be a smaller version of his own Bible.

“Thank you so much for finding mine, Lilly. Now you can answer all your questions with a Bible of your own. I got one for each of the Praise Petals, and, look, your name is engraved on the front.

Lilly made the Bible exchange and looked timidly toward the front cover of hers.

“Here ya go, Rose.” Pastor handed me an identical buttery soft leather-clad Bible. Sure enough my name was scrolled across the front is delicate gold lettering. “I trust that you girls will make sure the rest of these make it to the sanctuary for tomorrow’s service. I hope you have better luck with keeping track of yours.”

Pastor Larry chuckled. “Don’t stay out too late and make sure to secure the latch on that side door on your way out. It’s been banging around in the wind lately. I need to do some repairs. Good night!”

Pastor departed as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving both Lilly and me in stunned silence.

“Wow, that was kind of …” Lilly started.

“Spooky,” I finished.

Lilly looked me square in the face with the determined look, prefacing her confession.

“So, yes, I took his Bible. I’ve had it the whole time. I feel terrible and I know I need to fess up to Pastor. Don’t rat me out, Rose. Please.” Tear trickled down Lilly’s cheeks and her lips trembled uncontrollably. “I got here early to return it. I thought if I hid it under this chair he would think it’s been here the whole time. He can be kind of scatterbrained.”

I had no idea how to respond. Pastor’s Bible had been missing since the office break-in several weeks ago. I had actually forgot78

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ten all about it until now.

“Lilly, did you…”

“Yes, Rose,” she wailed. “It was me who vandalized Pastor Larry’s office. I took his stupid Bible. I’m the guilty thief.” Lilly visibly gathered herself, ready to defend her crime. “He mentioned that all the answers to any questions could be found in those pages and I wanted them, the answers.” Lilly sniffled again, but sat straighter with her confession as if an invisible weight was lifted.

“I didn’t find them, though, Rose, the answers. He didn’t tell us where in the Bible the answers are!”

I told myself to breathe before offering a reply. She had just revealed another surprising layer of Lilly Godzilly Jenkins.

“I, I think the Bible does hold all the answers. Maybe you’re just not ready to find them. Maybe now that you have your own Bible, they will come to you with time.” My words sounded lame to me, but Lilly seemed to be considering them seriously.

Nodding her head slowly, she smiled slowly in agreement. “I think you’re right, Rose. Thank you for being such a good friend” I nearly spit out my tongue at her words and stopped myself from actually pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t imagining what was happening.

Lilly considered me a friend? Holy Cannoli!

“Thanks for meeting me here, Rose. We’ll snoop some other time.”

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19 Mom and I walked to church Sunday morning. Her joining me for the short walk was unusual, but a pleasant surprise. She normally opted to drive herself, since she only attended the last service. I guessed she and Audrey had more things to talk about.

Mom didn’t have many friends. Dad’s work didn’t allow him to attend church with us, except on odd occasions. If I wasn’t hanging out with my mother, she was alone.

My suspicions were confirmed when we got to the front door.

“Audrey, Tom, and I will make coffee and set out snacks for between services. Then I’ll attend the late service. Your dad is coming home early today and is meeting us at Mascara’s for lunch.”

Wonders never cease. We never eat out on Sundays.

I wasn’t sure if I was more excited about the restaurant or about Dad joining us. My father was rarely home on weekends.

Something was up.

I noticed the oversized screen lowered as soon as I joined the Praise Petals on stage, but I didn’t discover what that was all about until the 11:00 o’clock service. As soon as we finished our opening hymn, Pastor asked us to direct our attention to the screen.

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“We have a special visitor today, but his only way to communicate with us right now is through technology. As most of you know, one of our members is out of state for the next couple months for eye surgery. Jay Allen is with us today via twenty-first century technology.”

Pastor Larry winked at me before adjusting the volume as Jay Allen’s face appeared over the airwaves.

“Is it on?” Jay Allen spoke to an invisible person beside him.

“Is it working? Can they see me?” Randomly tapping buttons that only he could see, he looked directly into the eyes of his church family—eyes settled into their normal cockeyed position. “Are you sure this thing’s on?” he repeated and tapped at the screen projecting his image.

“We hear you and see you, Jay,” Pastor answered for the mysterious technicians on the other side of the screen.

“Oh, oh. Good. Hello, everyone. It’s been kinda busy here.”

A few polite twitters emitted from the audience, and I know my face was fire engine red. “I just want everyone there to know how much I miss you all and how anxious I am to come home. They told me yesterday that my surgery is scheduled for early in the morning, so I wanted to let you see the ‘before’ project one last time. Hopefully, the next time you see me, my eyes will look directly at you and I will see clearly for the first time ever. Thank you for all the prayers and encouragement. I’ll see you soon.”

With a little wave, he was gone.

Repeated blinking didn’t stop the tears, and before I knew it, I was a bumbling mess. I loved Jay Allen so much. Not in a romantic way, but as a best friend, a brother, a confidante. I couldn’t imagine life without him. I knew he was nervous. I was nervous for him.

When my tears turned to outright sobs, I felt ridiculous and weak for allowing myself to be so vulnerable.

The congregation was silent, and I was terrified to look at them. Gratefully, Pastor asked everyone to bow their heads in prayer. He prayed for Jay Allen and all of his friends—which was 81

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laughable, since Jay only had one of those, and she was currently acting like a crazy person. He prayed for Jay Allen’s parents and the doctors who would perform the early morning surgery. He prayed for strength and full recovery. With each solemn word, I was reminded of the enormity of tomorrow’s operation—and I cried harder.

Pastor prayed for us all to stop wasting time on the small things in our daily lives and to clearly see what was important in life. Jay Allen was determined to clearly see the truly important aspects of our lives as Jay Allen strives also to see clearly.

Grateful that the Praise Petals had already offered their song to the congregation, I wasn’t sorry to be herded off the stage and into the hallway. I was wiped out. It wasn’t until my companion offered a box of tissues that I realized my savior was the one and only Lilly Godzilly Jenkins.

“That was rough, but he’s going to be fine, Rose. I just know it.”

And then the truly unacceptable, horribly awful, immensely unbelievable happened. Lilly Jenkins put both arms around me and hugged me. Hard. As hard as I had pushed her in this very building not long ago.

And I let her.

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20 It felt weird enough to have Dad home on a Sunday, but when that Sunday turned into Monday, and then Tuesday, I suspected something was up. He didn’t say anything about his presence, but he was obviously not going into work.

I held my tongue and didn’t ask, but by Thursday, I just couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Dad behaved as if his presence was nothing unusual, and Mom acted like we were hosting an out of town guest, which basically we were. For as long as I could remember, my dad worked out of town for the largest part of the week, and when he was home, he mostly slept before packing up and heading out again.

Something was going on, and as a voting member of our family, I felt I needed to be part of whatever it was. Afraid of asking, but even more scared of being left in the dark, I finally broached the subject at the supper table Thursday evening.

“Well, Rose, I was just waiting for a good time to tell you about a wonderful job offer I am considering. I just didn’t want to get our hopes up until more information could be provided. I should know for certain by Friday—tomorrow—so, let’s keep our fingers crossed.”

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Dad was not giving me anything to work with, and the suspense was too much.

“Okay, Dad, what are you talking about? Tell me. Are…are we moving?” The thought terrified me. I loved Ellison, and since the conception of the Praise Petals, I didn’t want to live anywhere else.

“No, honey, we are not moving,” Mom said quickly.

“Then what is it? Tell me, Dad.” “Like I said, I don’t want to get our hopes up before everything is final, but you do have a right to know the possibilities.

There’s been a lot of shuffling around in the district office. Moving employees around and creating new positions. I applied for a job in the corporate office located in Morgantown. It’s not as much money, but there are opportunities for advancement, and it’s so close to home, I think we can sacrifice a few things in order to make it work.”

My mother grasped Dad’s hand in both of hers, tears glistening in her eyes.

Dad returned her loving look and brought their clenched hands to his lips.

“So, how would you feel about having your dad under your feet again all the time? Not being an all-girl club twenty-fourseven?”

Mom was actively crying at this point, but her smile made it clear these were tears of joy. We were going to be a normal family.

I jumped up from my seat and raced to hug Dad tightly.

“That is wonderful news, Dad!” Sometimes I thought maybe my father chose to work away from home to be away from Mom and me.

“Now, don’t go and get all excited yet. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“But, you feel like the possibility is there, right? You’ve been home for days. If it’s not a possibility, why would you be here for so long?”

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“Yes, Rose, it is a strong possibility, but unfortunately, things don’t always work out the way you want them to, so I’m not putting all my eggs in one basket. I only have two more years to work in the field before I would get to come home for good, but this job came up and it’s worth it to me to take the pay cut. You and your mother will just have to stop taking all those weekend shopping sprees.”

I laughed at Dad’s attempt at humor. He knew how much my mother hated shopping.

“Oh, no, how will we cope?”

That got a laugh from both Mom and Dad. Before I went to bed, I made sure to fall to my knees and offer my thanks to God. Of course, Dad’s return to the fold meant that Mom would have to cook full meals now, I thought before turning off the light and curling up in bed. I think I smiled all night.

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21 Getting ready for school Friday morning, I reviewed the news Dad shared with us at dinner last evening. I so wished I could share it with someone, but Dad’s words of caution echoed in my mind. Of course, no one actually knew of my family situation except Jay Allen, and he had enough to deal with without my domestic woes.

Not only did Dad blow us away with his revelation, but Lilly had truly thrown a kink in my opinion of her. She had actually hugged me. Showed compassion. Showed a softer side. Was she softening me up for the final blow?

So many questions, so little time.

This weekend, Lilly was invited to visit the twins in their home.

There was speculation that the Bakers would invite all the Praise Petals to the sleepover. This new friendship circle was still a bit overwhelming. Besides, with Lilly off the church premises, I was hoping to reclaim my position as Pastor Larry’s officially unofficial personal assistant.

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time with “the girls.” I knew she was concerned for my social status, but it didn’t bother me as much as it used to. Especially when the attention made me uncomfortable. I was more interested in the intimacy of just one or two girlfriends at a time. Groups made me uncomfortable.

Regardless, I knew I’d be with the Praise Petals on Saturday for practice. A nice Friday night at home with both my parents sounded wonderful. Besides, today was the day Dad found out about his job, so it would be either an evening of celebration or one of commiseration. I wanted to be involved, whichever way it went.

When I got to my locker, I was surprised to find all the Praise Petals there. We were beginning to get strange, almost envious looks from other students when this happened, which was more and more often.

“Hey, lady!” Maggie hugged me tightly. “It’s Friday!”

How can one person be so happy all the time?

“You know what that means? We’re one day closer to the big event.”

The confusion in my head must have transferred to my face, because I had no idea what big event was being referenced.

When she realized my confusion, Maggie turned to Lilly and insisted that she fill me in.

“Rose, the Church of Go Praise Petals has been invited to perform for the elementary school end of school year assembly!

Isn’t that exciting? Pastor Larry got the news last night and came to tell me immediately! I barely slept at all the rest of the night!”

This announcement was wrong on so many levels. Our singing group had only existed for two months. And Pastor had told Lilly before anyone else? That was at the top of my list. Greeneyed Monster alert. While Lilly appeared sincere about her personality make-over, I still had my doubts about her honesty.

“That’s why I asked you all to meet me here this morning.

Thanks for taking time. We’ll need to work extra hard at practice tomorrow!”

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And with a final “ta-ta,” Lilly whirled away as if the world awaited her presence.

Just when I thought I was getting over my insecurities about her, Lilly threw a real boulder my way. Why did she get to know about the invitation before any of us? Pastor Larry always told me everything. And he knew how I felt about Lilly. Why hadn’t he called me last night when he got this news?

“Rose, isn’t this exciting news?” Maggie asked. “I don’t know what to think about it. I mean, we’ve only been singing together for a short while. Are we ready for something like this?” She pushed shut her locker and turned to face me. “Oh, and Rose?” Maggie hadn’t made it very far when she whirled back to my side. “That means I have a little favor to ask you. I won’t have a ride back into town in the morning. Do you think I could possibly stay at your house tonight? I promise I won’t eat much.” She laughed at her little joke as if we were accustomed to this type of banter.

My immediate impulse was to quickly say yes, yes, yes—but reality hit me as I remembered my household was now one person added. Dad was home. Mom might not be ready to share him with other folks yet “I’ll need to check with my mother. We might have plans. Can I let you know at lunch?”

Maggie looked a bit flustered at this news. It was my MO to always be available, always be free. With Dad back in the picture, though, things were a bit wonky.

“Sure,” Maggie answered. “It was a bit rude of me to ask at the last minute.”

She sounded deflated, and I immediately regretted turning her away so abruptly. She was my idol. My ultimate role model. If I said no to Maggie, and she really needed a place to stay, I would be mortified to discover that she asked one of the other girls. I was sure that would be the final nail in my social coffin.

Of course, Mom said yes to Maggie’s request. I was almost disappointed to not have Dad all to ourselves. Mainly because I didn’t yet know the outcome of his work news. Things might get 88

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a little sad later tonight.

But I had to think on the positive side. Of course, Maggie knew nothing of my family drama, and I planned to keep it that way until the final news report.

On the walk home from school, Maggie assured me her backpack was always prepared for a sleepover, which I found odd but didn’t say anything.

She gave a reason anyway.

“We just live so far out in the middle of nowhere that I learned early on that it’s always good to be prepared.” As we neared my house, she started pulling random items out of her worn canvas bag. Toothbrush, flashlight, spare underwear—.

“Okay, okay!” I laughed. “I believe you. Stop waving your skivvies around for all to see.”

“Skivvies? That’s a new one! Funny, though.” She pushed the items into her bag, but continued to giggle at the word. “Skivvies!”

“What about skivvies?” Mom was coming out the front door and caught the last of Maggie’s words.

Maggie and I immediately burst out into spontaneous laughter as my mother grinned in anticipation of enlightenment—that didn’t come.

“Okay, then,” Mom squeaked when our silliness subdued. “I’m on my way to Mascara’s for a loaf of bread. Can you girls think of anything else we might need for a night of fun?”

Bread? Bread was fun? I made the mistake of looking at Maggie, who must’ve been having the same thought, because laughter bubbled out of her at the same time my attempt to squelch my own laughter nearly choked.

“Well, I’ll take that as no/” Mom walked around us toward the garage. “I’ll be back soon. Rose, stir the sauce on the stove before you two are attacked by another fit of silly-giggles. Your father had an errand but won’t be gone long. Oh, and, Maggie, welcome to our little house of randomness. So glad you could come.”

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selves as I led her into the kitchen where the spaghetti sauce burbled gently. I loved it when Mom made spaghetti sauce. She didn’t particularly like to cook, but when she did, it was always superb.

“Your house is so pretty!” Maggie exclaimed, turning all directions to take it all in.

I’d never thought about it before. It’s just a house.

“You must feel so lucky to live here, so close to everything.

I’ve always wanted to be able to walk to school, to have a neighbor, and I love sidewalks! I’m kinda envious.”

I nearly dropped the wooden spoon I held above the fragrant red sauce, pausing briefly to contemplate what Maggie had just said.

How could anyone envy what I have when she lived—suddenly I remembered the tired screen door hanging on the metal structure she called home.

“Good to meet you, Maggie,” my father said between forkfuls at the dinner table. “Do you live here in Ellison?” The spaghetti sauce evidently met Dad’s approval. He shoved it in his mouth as if this were his first meal in days. Or maybe because this was his Last Supper. His job situation as of yet had not been mentioned, but if he were tense, he didn’t act like it. I took that as a good sign and stretched the parmesan cheese across the table to Mom’s outstretched hand.

“No, we live on Killarm Road. My parents both grew up here in town, though. Daisy and Joshua Myers?”

“What? Hold your horses! Joshua Myers is your dad?” My father grabbed his napkin to wipe any edible debris from the table and his face. “Joshua Myers who played football for EHS when we took three consecutive state championships? That Joshua Myers?”

We all stared at my enthusiastic dad. I had never seen him so animated. It was as if Maggie had just handed him a late Christmas present.

“Uh…yes….” Maggie was red as the spaghetti sauce.

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“I thought I told you that, Zach.” Mom looked more surprised than any of us.

“Kendra, her dad is Joshua Myers! Remember Josh and Daisy?

They were voted most likely to disappear from the planet and start a commune senior year.”

“There was no such thing as that, Zach. Stop exaggerating— and stop embarrassing Maggie.” Mom smiled at our guest. “Zachary and Joshua were good friends in high school. When we all graduated, the two of them went off to different colleges and, over the years, lost touch,” Mom explained.

“Maggie, what is your dad doing these days? He really came back to Ellison? That’s wonderful. I need to get in touch with hm. My job has taken me off the grid for several years, so I really don’t get a lot of hometown news if it doesn’t come from Kendra or Rose.”

Dad continued to shake his head in wonder, a huge smile plastered across his face. “I hate it that work has made me so distant.” He wiped at his mouth again before grabbing his glass of iced tea and standing. “That is about to change. Zach Hicks is back in town, ladies. Let’s raise our glasses and give thanks.”

But there was no glass raising on my part. Mom and I were too busy scrambling to get to Dad, arms outstretched, tears running down our faces.

“What does that mean, Dad?” I asked as soon as the hoopla died down and we were back in our seats.

“It means, Rose, that I will be working out of Morgantown and staying at home right where I belong. It means that you will once again have a full-time dad to answer to. It means that I will be under you and your mother’s feet all the time, being a royal pain.” Dad looked from me to Maggie. “It means that I reconnect with old friends and have a fulfilling social life and once again be an active role in this community.” He focused his gaze back on Mom. “It means we can be a family again.”

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22 “Thank you for being my friend. I really appreciate how nice you’ve been to me, Maggie,” I whispered under the guise of a dark room.

“Oh, Rose, don’t be silly. It’s not difficult to be nice to you.

You are one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. Thank you for being my friend!”

We settled back into a comfortable silence.

“Isn’t it crazy, though, how our dads know each other and were such good friends when they were exactly our age? It’s almost as if this were meant to be.”

My thoughts echoed Maggie’s words. I didn’t want to get too mushy, but I think this was the happiest I’d ever been. This entire evening was awesome.

Dad had a job close to home. Maggie had claimed me as her friend.

I didn’t want to jinx all this good fortune, but I also didn’t want to let this time elapse without milking it for all its worth. So, I bit the bullet and went for it. I asked the question that had 92

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haunted me for some time now.

“I wonder why we weren’t friends until now,” I said, so softly I could barely hear myself.

“I didn’t know if you would want to be my friend.”

What? Who wouldn’t want to be friends with Maggie? Everyone wanted to be Maggie’s friend.

“You and Jay Allen have always been so close. Your friendship is kind of intimidating. It’s so strong. It’s like the two of you didn’t need anyone else around. No one wants to intrude where they’re not wanted. Y’know?”

Do I ever. Jay Allen and I have been misfits since kindergarten, when we ended up being in the same reading group. Everyone made fun of Jay Allen for obvious reasons, and I felt sorry for him.

“I can’t believe you just said that. Jay Allen and I always stick together because we don’t feel a part of anything. It’s more comfortable being a group of two than to put yourself out there for more public humiliation.” I took a shaky breath and continued.

“But you’ve probably never had to deal with that, right?”

The silence lingered for what felt like an interminable amount of time, and I wondered if Maggie had fallen asleep.

“Rose, I don’t understand people’s opinion of me.”

The bed sheets rustled and the mattress shifted as Maggie rearranged herself on the bed. The slit of light through a parted curtain revealed that she was propped up with her head on a raised shoulder and looked right at me. “Be honest with me. Do I act stuck up or better than other people?”

Stuck up? Better than other people? She had to be nuts. “No, Maggie. You don’t act like that at all!” It’s hard to be forceful and quiet at the same time, but I didn’t want to wake Mom and Dad with a loud discussion. Our bedrooms were right across the hall from one another. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Well, sometimes people think I’m a lot more than what I am.

I mean, yes, my family lives on a golf course. We have access to a swimming pool. But there’s nothing exciting about being stranded 93

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miles away from civilization with four foot of snow on the ground and the water pipes frozen and the power out. It’s not fun when we sometimes go days without bread or milk because we can’t get to the store. When our telephone rings, it isn’t necessarily a personal call for the Myers family. Nope, our phone line is connected to the golf course office, so when the phone rings, it might be a call for someone in the pro shop or in the kitchen or the bar.

I’m not always crazy about weekends, because that means I’m stuck in our trailer until school on Monday. Even if I had transportation we can’t afford extracurricular activities. I’d like to be in the marching band, but that means I’d have to buy an instrument and pay for band camp. It’s just not going to happen.”

Maggie sniffled and I thought she was done, but almost immediately she continued talking.

“I’m sorry, Rose. You don’t need to hear this stuff.”

I felt the mattress shift again: this time in an unmistakable rhythm. Maggie was crying.

I wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know how. Her story shocked me.

I scooted closer to Maggie’s side of the bed and put my arms around her shaking body. The public opinion of Maggie Myers was that she was wealthy. Super rich. Entitled but not a braggart—when basically she could be identified as trailer trash. A horrible term that I had read somewhere.

“Maggie?” I asked softly. “Mags, it’s okay. It’s not important where you live or what activities you do. Who cares? That has nothing to do with who you are. And, let me tell you who you are.

You are basically the envy of the majority of students at EHS. Why?” I forged ahead, empowered with all the reasons why she, of all people, should never feel beneath anyone’s opinion.

“Because you are beautiful. You’re smart. You can do just about anything. And everyone loves you. Wants to be you. You, Magnolia Maggie Myers, are a hero.”

I wasn’t sure if she felt better, but my words resonated with me, too. If I truly believed what I’d just said, then my own per94

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sonal worth had just been elevated as well.

Maggie sat up, wiped her nose on her sleeve, and took a deep breath. “Oh, Rose, I know you mean well, but do you really believe all that in the grand scheme of life? You might not care about other people’s opinions, but sometimes I do. I don’t stay home on weekends because I want to. I stay home because I have no other options. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, so don’t judge me, but it would be nice to live here in town, to walk to school and to church, to be part of this community, to be closer to the imagined version of what people think. I would love to live in a beautiful house like you or Jasmine, but I don’t.”

I fumbled in the dark for a box of tissues and blindly handed it to her to save further abuse to her flannel sleep shirt.

“Thank you,” she muttered and blew her nose.

“Please, Rose, don’t tell anyone I told you this stuff. I can’t believe I’m saying it out loud to anyone! I’m so embarrassed.”

Stunned, all I could think to do was to sit in silence and let Maggie take the reins.

“I mean, what am I going to tell everyone when we have the pool party Lilly is promoting for the end of the school year? ‘Hi, welcome to the pool I’m borrowing from the country club? Oh, and when you’re ready to go home, don’t ask to see my house, ‘cause it’s not a house, but a used trailer? Yes, I know the dishes are cracked and probably didn’t match to begin with, so you needn’t bother drawing attention to them.’”

Sure, she lived in a trailer, but I had been there and experienced the warmth, the love, that trailer held. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. I must’ve been missing something else.

Wordlessly, Maggie snuggled deep into the bed covers.

I copied her actions and did the same. “Get some sleep, Mags.

Things are supposed to always look better with the break of day.”

“See ya later, alligator,” came a sniffly reply from the other side of my queen-sized bed.

“After while, Crocodile,” I whispered into the dark.

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23 Maggie and I decided to skip an evening at the twin’s house with Lilly in favor of staying another night at my house after choir practice. Mom and Dad planned an evening of binge-watching old movies and playing card games. Jasmine came over, too.

Maggie taught us all to play pinochle, a game that had been played in her family all the way back to her great-grandparents.

Jasmine proved herself a card shark of epic proportions, catching on quickly while I finally gave up and acted as the gallery. We had delivery pizza and giant bowls of buttered popcorn.

At first I felt a bit guilty for not accepting the invitation to join Iris, Ivy, and Lilly, and even more guilty for not reciprocating with a counter-offer to participate in the games and goodies at my house. As it worked out, Dad reacquainted himself with the town gossip and high school connections while talking more to Maggie and sharing funny stories with Jasmine about her uncles and the shenanigans they all got involved in during their younger years. I learned that my dad was a fairly rotten kid.

“Zach, these girls are going to think you’re an awful person.”

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My mother kept her eyes on her hands, the way she did when she was embarrassed. “Their parents aren’t going to ever let them come back.”

“Their parents? Kendra, their parents were just as guilty as I was! Maggie, ask your dad about the time we climbed the—” “Zach, no! That’s enough.” Despite herself, Mom burst out laughing at the untold memory.

“Well, then, Jasmine could ask her grandmother about the incident with Pastor Larry and her mother calling the—” “No, she cannot.” Mom picked up the remains of our snacks, probably to hide her smile from the rest of us.

“How is your grandmother? Dad asked. “Still raising cane?

She’s one of the fiercest people I’ve ever known, but she’s always that one person you can count on when you need to.”

Dad smiled and shook his head at whatever memory he recalled. “ How ‘bout your mother? She was one beautiful girl. Always smiling. Always walking around with her head in the clouds, planning a future as a ballerina. Does she still dance?”

Jasmine looked surprised, as if she and her mother had never discussed this ambition, even after all those years of dance lessons and traveling to and from Morgantown to ensure the best instruction in the area. Or, at least, that’s the story. After last night’s midnight confessions from Maggie, though, my opinion of public accuracy was running a bit askew. Maggie’s admissions were still unsettling. She was the last person I would peg as being envious. And she said Lilly was jealous of me. Neither one of them had anything to fear.

Jasmine called her mother and got permission to spend the night with us, so she and Maggie and I called it an early night to disappear to my room in search of something suitable for Jasmine to wear to church the next morning. Although the three of us had very different styles, we were all pretty much the same size.

“You’re really preppy, aren’t you, Rose?” she asked while flipping through the blouses and cardigans hanging in my closet.

I’d never thought about it, but it was true. I guess I inherited 97

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that from my mom’s love of add-a-bead necklaces and sweater vests. I just thought it was a clean, conservative look. Jasmine probably thought it was extremely boring.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, girlfriend,” Maggie said and tossed one of my favorite blazers at Jasmine.

As Maggie designed Jasmine’s wardrobe, I sat back and looked, really looked, at my friends. They really were special. They didn’t judge. They just wanted everyone to get along.

“Okay, Jazz, how do you like your new look? Too much outside your sulky comfort zone?”

Jasmine posed in front of the full-length mirror and just stared at herself for several seconds. A slow smile spread across her face as she tugged at the navy blazer and turned from side to side, evaluating her appearance.

“It’ll work,” she said, and Maggie and I applauded enthusiastically. “Don’t get excited, though. I don’t think I’ll be getting nerd glasses anytime soon.” Jasmine almost immediately swung around and faced me, her hand over her mouth. “No offense, Rose. That was really not nice. I—” But Maggie and I were already in a fit of what my mother deemed silly giggles.

“No offense taken, Jazz. You look amazing, though.”

And she did. No one from school would recognize this version of Jasmine Jones.

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24 Dad surprised me Sunday morning when he appeared at the breakfast table in full church apparel. Even though the Church of Go was fairly casual in dress, several old timers continued to honor the day in their Sunday best. Dad wore a pair of relaxed tan Dockers and a black blazer, white shirt, and black tie. In celebration of the day, Mom even dressed up a bit more than usual in a gray shirt dress. Catching them standing close in the kitchen, I realized what a striking couple they made.

Maggie, Jasmine, and I joined them in our pre-selected matching blazers in black, navy, and camel, respectively, from my closet of what Jazz had labeled “collegiate wear.” I hadn’t realized how conservative I was.

“Looks like I’m going to be the man of the hour surrounded by such lookers. You ladies look amazing. I’m proud to be your escort!”

We smiled at my dad and gave one another congratulatory high fives before heading out the door. It was a beautiful morning, so we agreed the short walk to church was appropriate. To the casual observer, we looked like the perfect family enjoying a 99

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perfect Sunday stroll.

Attendance was going to be up today with the current weather conditions, so we mentally prepared ourselves for a giant case of nerves in presenting a new song this morning.

I looked around the activity hall for sight of the rest of our singing group. Ginger was the only Petal there. She had a cup of something in one hand and a scone in the other.

“Good morning, Rose! Hey, Maggie Magnolia and Jazzy Jasmine!” she chirped. “Where is everyone?”

At that moment Lilly and the twins rushed to join us.

“We missed you guys so much!” Lilly screamed. “Next sleepover, I insist it will be all of us!”

“We’ve never been so scared!” Iris? Ivy? said, the other nodding her head in agreement. “I think we watched every Freddy movie made before Mom convinced us to watch something not so violent.”

“I’ll take the blame for that,” Lilly said. “It’s my fault. It just sounded like what you’re supposed to do at a sleepover. What’d you guys do last night?”

Because we hadn’t mentioned our own little party, Lilly and company had no idea the other half of the Petals were busy socializing elsewhere.

“Whoa, Jazz! You’re looking spiffy!” Lilly yelled when she saw Jasmine in my blazer and oxford shirt. “You didn’t send us the memo on dress code for today. What’s up with that?” Lilly puckered up in annoyance at the thought of being excluded from the plan.

“It just kind of happened.” Maggie shrugged. “We didn’t actually plan it.”

“No biggy. You gals do look cute, though, all uniformed up. I thought today was purple day, though.”

That’s when I noticed that the twins and Lilly were sporting identical purple tie-dyed t-shirts.

“We did these last nights before the horror marathon,” explained Ivy/Iris. “In fact, we made everyone a shirt!”

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The silent twin started handing out shirts to the rest of us and urging us toward the restroom to change. Any argument was lost in the excited chatter that accompanied us, all seven of us, to the lady’s room for our first ever costume change.

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25 “Oh, my goodness. Will they ever grow up? You’d think they never left high school,” Mom muttered when I entered the kitchen after school on Monday. She stood at the sink under the window, looking out onto the driveway where Dad, Pastor Larry, and Joshua Myers attempted to hide their huffing and puffing under the basketball hoop. Mr. Jenkins sat off to the side in his wheelchair, enjoying the show.

“They’re such children.”

“But you’re glad he’s home, aren’t you?” I said as I sidled up behind my mother and put my arms around her waist.

Mom wrapped her own arms around my hands and hugged hard. “Yes, Rose, I am so, so, glad he’s home.”

We stood in one another’s inverted embrace for several more minutes, just enjoying the comfort of our shared love.

Mom turned around to face me, unshed tears sparkling in her eyes. With her hands cupping either side of my face, she peered directly into my eyes. “Don’t you ever think he doesn’t love us, Rose. He loves us very, very much. He didn’t stay away so long 102

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because he wanted to. Your dad is just determined to give us the best life he can possibly give us, and if that means traveling around the country, that’s what he’ll do. But, he’s done with that now.

I’ve always appreciated his dedication to our family, but I’m so happy he’s had whatever epiphany he’s had and come home. We don’t need that added income anymore. We’re fine on his current salary.”

“And now he gets to play with his friends,” I added.

Mom’s face lit up and we laughed together as Pastor Larry did a victory dance under the basketball hoop.

“Yes, he can play with his friends.” Mom gave me an extra squeeze.

“Actually, I didn’t know he was such good friends with Pastor, though,” “He and Pastor and Joshua were all pals in high school. Pastor was a year or two behind your father and Joshua, but they hung out sometimes. Joshua and your dad graduated together. They had big plans, those two. It was a shock when Joshua and Daisy got married and left town. That was the last we heard from them in a long time.”

“So, Dad hung out with Pastor Larry in school? I didn’t know that.”

Mom nodded. “They were all on the state championship football team. I was in the marching band. I remember the bus ride home from the game in Amsted. We were so loud, cheering and celebrating. The band bus followed the team bus back to Ellison, and when we got the school the parking it was packed with fans.

They were singing and screaming. If anyone was left in town that night, they weren’t going to sleep. We made far too much noise.”

Mom’s eyes were focused on a faraway memory. A small smile teased her lips. For some reason, I felt like I was spying on an inner secret that only she could understand.

“Oh, Rose. Enjoy your high school years. They pass all too quickly.” Mom wiped at her face with a boney index finger and continued to look out on the kitchen window as she dove into 103

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what I knew as a life lesson monologue. My mom had loved high school. She loved the studying, the social life, the many activities and friends mixed in with the basics of academia. If she’d had it her way, she’d continue to be trapped in a time warp of her teen years.

I sometimes think my own high school experience has been a great disappointment for her. I wasn’t in the school band. I had no interest in being a majorette or sports person. Clubs were not my thing, and my posse of friends, besides Jay Allen, was nonexistent—until recently. I believe my current state of girlfriend overload made her happier than anything else I could give her. She reminded me often that she enjoyed living vicariously through me.

A raucous roar from outside brought my gaze back to the kitchen window.

Dad was on all fours, pounding the cement driveway with a fist, while his buddies stood around laughing and high-fiving one another. Mom was right. They needed to grow up. Grown men playing a child’s game. I had to wonder if that would be me in twenty years. Would my new gal pals and I still be singing in the church choir in twenty years? Would Jay Allen and I still be friends?

That reminded me of my previous fear concerning Jay Allen’s surgery. Would he return home looking all handsome and charming? Would he have the reputation of a hero regained? Would he have a girlfriend before I had a boyfriend?

So many uncertainties.

Did Mom feel similar emotions when she was my age?

As if reading my mind, Mom gave me a quick hug. “You’ll find your way, Rose. Life isn’t as scary as it appears. We all end up where we’re intended to be with whom the good Lord chooses for us. It just takes a while to get there.”

After another loud cheer from outside, Mom smiled in reaction to man-boy tactics. “I would never have believed that Larry would follow in his father’s footsteps and become a minister. Your father was more likely to take that route. We actually used to 104

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make fun of his holier than thou attitude. He was always preaching to his friends. No one took him seriously, though, because he was such a prankster. Always the mischief maker. Yet everyone always looked up to him. Always called on him in a pinch. When Joshua joined the service, your dad and Larry told him he was crazy, what with the world in the condition it was. They thought it was ridiculous to volunteer to go in harm’s way under the presidential regime that existed. But when it became obvious that he was headed to basic training, both your dad and Pastor Larry got on board and they enlisted together. Fortunately, none of them ever belonged to a unit that was deployed on a mission. But they got to travel some and see parts of the world they normally would never have experienced. The service was almost like belonging to a fraternity for them. They all took advantage of the GI bill and got college degrees. Pastor Larry attended seminary after getting a degree in philosophy at WVU. Joshua jumped around a lot.

He has a degree in agriculture from WVU, a dual degree in history and Russian literature from Wesleyan, and a trade certificate in graphic arts from the community college in the city. He’s such a nomad. Those three guys are so different and so very much alike.

They all love God and their families.”

“Did Pastor Larry ever have a girlfriend? I would think he would be a great catch for the right person.”

Mom’s sad smile warned me this was not a happy story.

“Larry didn’t date much in school. He really didn’t enjoy that aspect of being social. The girls were crazy about him, but he never reciprocated. Until he got involved with the twins. Fiona and Daphne were beautiful. And identical. They used to play tricks on people all the time and pretend to be one another. Sometimes it was funny. Sometimes not so much. Larry started hanging around with them, and, of course, that created quite the stir. They were like book ends. The three of them went everywhere together, much to your dad and Joshua’s dismay. The twins were wealthy, kind of entitled, but approachable. We all attended Pastor Larry’s dad’s church back then. The girls sang in the choir. Joshua played 105

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the piano, and your dad and Larry basically held up the last pew in the sanctuary.” Mom laughed softly, still lost in the past.

“It was about this time your dad asked me out on our first date. I was excited, except for the fact that I’d have to be around the twins. They were so intimidating. Not because they weren’t nice. They were just so beautiful. It was difficult to ignore that.

And I always thought Larry wanted to fix your dad up with one of them. The four of them would have been the power team at EHS. But that never happened. I’m glad, but also sad about the reason it never happened.”

With a deep sigh, Mom stopped talking.

She busied herself with the dirty dishes in the sink and didn’t say another word. I figured she was just collecting her thoughts and would continue the tale momentarily. I waited patiently, intent on learning the outcome of Pastor Larry’s love life.

But Mom didn’t continue. Finally, as the basketball players outside showed signs of wrapping up, I asked. “Why? What happened?”

Mom turned to look at me, seemingly surprised that I was even in the room. “Daphne died.”

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26 For two days I struggled with Mom’s words. Daphne died.

What a horrible way to end a story. She died. That’s all, and that’s that. There was more to the story, and I intended to find it out. Mom’s body language made it apparent she was finished with the story. That was a dead end of information. Needless to say, any worries about Jay Allen were pushed to the back burner, and Lilly’s existence no longer cluttered my brain. I was in possession of some grade A scuttlebutt. Pastor Larry used to have a serious girlfriend. And now she was dead. I needed more information.

Not wanting to sound like a gossip hound, I finally quizzed Mom as gently as I could a couple days later.

“It was a pretty nasty situation, Rose. Every mother’s nightmare. The Whites basically built a shelter around their surviving daughter and did their best to shield Fiona from any conversation concerning Daphne. There’s a plaque in memory of Daphne in the entryway of the church. Pastor Larry brought it over from his dad’s church when he came to Sacred Sanctuary. I forgot all about that. Look at it next time you’re there.”

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Since she didn’t appear to be willing to say any more, I did one better than that. After supper, I Googled Daphne White.

Birchwood Gazette The daughter of prominent Birchwood citizens Wayne and Winona White has died. Early Saturday morning, Daphne Renee White was found unresponsive at the home of friends following a sleepover event. Details are unknown as to cause of death at this time. The family has requested an autopsy. Ross Funeral Home is in charge of entombment arrangements and details will be disclosed at a later time. Condolences should be directed to daphnerenee.ross.

Wow. As I continued my investigation, I discovered that Daphne’s death was eventually attributed to drugs and alcohol. Fiona was mentioned in several articles, as well as their friend Raymond, who evidently was a boyfriend.

Hmmm….

So, if Raymond was the boyfriend, how did Pastor Larry fit in? His name wasn’t mentioned at all. Not knowing any of the other players in this mystery, it was difficult for me to imagine what occurred that awful night. Questioning Pastor Larry wasn’t a good idea, but maybe my dad would be helpful.

Just as Mom popped her head in my bedroom to say goodnight, I jotted myself a reminder to corner my dad the next chance I got.

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27 The first thing I did upon entering the church Saturday morning was to search the walls for the memorial plaque Mom had mentioned. And there it was. A framed portrait in memory of a dark beauty.

Daphne Renee White—taken too soon. May her song forever be heard.

“She was a very special person.” Pastor Larry’s soft comment startled me. I jumped out of my reverie, nearly knocking him over.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, Rosebud,” Pastor said, sporting what could have been misconstrued as a forced smile.

“She was one in a million, that one. She and her sister both.”

Maybe there was hope of getting more info on the mysterious White sisters.

“Did … did you know them well?” I asked hesitatingly.

Any answer he had on the ready was interrupted by an elephant-sized sneeze.

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“Sorry, Rosebud. I seem to have come down with something.”

A closer inspection of Pastor Larry supported that statement.

His eyes were red, matching the rawness of his nose. I dug in my pockets for a tissue to offer, to no avail.

“Hey, guys, what’s the hold up? We’ve got planning to do!”

And, with that, Lilly, out of nowhere, grabbed my sweater sleeve and started pulling me in the direction of the activity hall.

“You, too, Pastor L. You’ve got all the news on what we’re doing. C’mon!”

Trying to keep up with my unwanted guide, I forced my body to stay upright and looked back at Pastor still staring with bloodshot eyes at the beautiful girl on the wall. I hoped I hadn’t stirred up unpleasant memories for him. Curiosity could be a curse.

Everyone was waiting for us in the hall. Even Ginger was on time for once.

Jasmine was tapping out a rhythm on a countertop in the kitchen with two plastic spoons, and the twins were huddled in their own little cocoon conversing in their secret language. Maggie sat alone on the edge of the stage, tissues wadded up in both hands. Her eyes were puffy and her nose raw.

“Don’t come any closer, Roseth. I’m thick.” To verify her point, Maggie exhaled a giant sneeze and covered her face in soggy Kleenex. “Dad dropped me off long enough to make my apologies. Heeth coming right back to get me…sniff…after picking up some things from the pharmathy.”

If misery had an image, Maggie was it. Her hair was haphazardly stuffed into a toboggan and her face was patterned with what I hoped were sheet marks. Her eyes were void of the joy that always surrounded Maggie. So, the word of the day for Maggie was misery.

“Geesh, girl, you look terrible!” Of course Lilly shouted the obvious, with no concern for personal feelings.

“Yeth…sniff…I know. It’s a bad cold. We all have it. The heat’s been off for two days and that’s not helping at all.” She sounded like she was down in a bucket.

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“Wow, that’s rough.” Lilly’s soft reply caught me off guard.

What? No… . I searched my brain for an M word to describe Lilly.

When Maggie expelled another shotgun sneeze, followed by a coughing fit, Ginger raced to grab a fresh box of tissues. She slid them across the floor, where they came to rest perfectly at Maggie’s feet. Of course this got a nervous giggle from all of us, and Ginger did her best to cover the flush of red that painted her embarrassment.

“I’m thorry… .” Maggie wheezed and cradled the box to her chest. “Thanks.”

An enormous bomb of a sneeze echoed into the room, preceding Pastor Larry’s entrance and startling all of us to attention.

“Yeth, me too,” Pastor Larry entered the room, gripping a box of Kleenex. “I remembered the bottles of hand sanitizer under the sink in the kitchen, Rosebud. Make sure everyone gets a little one and uses it.”

Tom Jenkins wheeled himself through the door, looking to be in much the same condition as the other invalids. He halted his progression when he realized he wasn’t alone.

I searched my brain for the appropriate M words to describe the situation unfolding before me. It was mass medical mayhem. For some reason, this struck me as hysterical. I also felt rather lightheaded. And warm… very warm. A feverish glow emanated from my forehead.

“Good morning, ladies…oh, and gentlemen.” My dad burst through from the outside door. He looked as bad off as the rest of us. When did that happen? He was fine last night—I think. It dawned on me I hadn’t actually seen him last evening. He and his friends had gone to the neighboring town of Birchwood for a pick-up basketball game with high school rivals-turned-friends over the years. It was like a reunion. He hadn’t even eaten supper with us. After all this time being just the girls, it was easy to forget we were now a full fledge family of three. It was just so normal for Mom and me to be by ourselves that I had forgotten he was 111

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even home.

“It’s not a cold, folks. We have the flu, and we’re all contagious,” Dad announced.

“And it’s spreading like wildfire,” Joshua Myers finished. “I just got off the phone with Lemley in Birchwood. All those boys are down, too. He says it’s epidemic there.”

A collective groan filled the activity room.

“Well, so much for spreading community cheer, huh?” Pastor Larry spit out with a sudden cough. “It looks like this is running rampant in Ellison also. Iris? Ivy? How are you girls feeling?”

The twins had remained huddled off to themselves in a corner.

“Why don’t you girls go home? And Ginger? Jasmine? Neither of you live with any of us who were directly exposed, so we can only hope you stay symptom free. As of right now all Church of Go activities are canceled until further notice.

Everyone go home, drink plenty of fluids, and stay warm. And don’t leave your homes until all symptoms are gone.”

When Dad and I got home, we found Mom huddled up under a blanket, tentatively sipping a warm cup of something. A box of tissues at her side, she looked like she was settled down for the long haul.

“You, too?” she said when she saw me. In the short walk from church to home, my head had filled with the muck. Dad and I were practically holding each other up. Mom flipped the blanket up to welcome us in. That’s the way we spent the next hour: Curled up together under a blanket on our sectional sofa, TV volume on low. At any other time, I might consider this a happy memory, but the chorus of sniffling; sneezing, coughing, and groaning painted a different picture.

We must have fallen asleep, though, because the next thing I knew we were all stretching awake.

One by one we stumbled off on our separate ways, only to reconvene moments later in our flannel pjs and fleece robes. It would have been funny if we’d been in a more humorous mood.

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“Chicken noodle soup anyone? I still know where the can opener is, I think,” Dad said amid a coughing fit.

None of us were particularly hungry, but agreed a little sustenance was probably a good idea. Thirty minutes later, with our bellies warmed with canned soup and Saltine crackers, we took ourselves to the comfort of our own beds.

Influenza is a funny word. As I finally eased off to sleep, pillows stacked under my head to encourage appropriate phlegm drainage and tissues close by, I remembered when I was in preschool and Jay Allen and I were sent home with fever and chills.

Jay Allen loved telling people that we had “the influenza” rather than simply stating we were sick. If he were here, I’m sure we would relive that memory together.

I’ll text him in the morning.

Cough…gag…sniffle…

If I’m still alive, that is.

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28 Sunday dawned bright and sunny whether we liked it or not. I think I might have actually fallen into a sound sleep around three a.m., so I knew it was going to be an equally long day. Mom and Dad were still in bed when I crept into the kitchen for a glass of water. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing, and then decided I didn’t really care. Sunday was one of my favorite days of the week, and it just felt wrong to be sick on a Sunday.

All I wanted to do right now was go to church. But my head ached and my throat was raw. I thought of Pastor Larry’s lessons on being uncomfortable for the sake of worshipping Jesus, but common sense had to prevail. No one else would be at the church building besides its current residents in the guest suite, and they were probably as physically miserable as I was.

“Rose, are you awake?” Mom called to me from my doorway.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

The nasal quality of her questions told me how she was feeling.

“Not so good,” I replied, and met her in the hallway. Her hair was sticking up in unruly puffs and dark circles underlined her 114

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eyes. She squinted at the offensive sunlight that dared to assault her from the hall window.

“Looks like this is going to be a lazy Sunday of recuperation.

I feel like I need to make a huge kettle of chicken soup and deliver portions to all our neighbors.”

“That’s silly, Mom. You’re sick too. The neighbors don’t want you to do that.”

I blew my nose on the last dry tissue in my robe pocket and wadded it up in a soggy ball. “I think we’re going to need more tissues,” I said.

“Have you ever wondered what could be done with all the phlegm that is produced by humans? There has got to be some scientific value to it. Don’t you think?” Dad asked some of the most bizarre questions that often initiated ridiculous conversations for days afterward. So I wasn’t surprised that he actually questioned the use for this foul bodily fluid. “Come have some hot tea.”

“Ewww, Dad, that’s gross,” I rasped, searching frantically in my robe pockets for a dry tissue. “Not the tea—that other thing you said.”

But, he had a point. It did seem an awful waste of such an abundant product.

Mom noticed the soggy mess I was making with my collection of Kleenex and pulled out a new box from the pantry.

“Rose, wash your hands before you touch anything. God only knows how long you’ve been walking around with a pocketful of that nastiness.”

This sounded almost as ridiculous as Dad’s phlegm theory. I was already sick. Mom was sick. Dad was sick. Everyone was already sick. I didn’t see what a few more germs were going to do to us. But, I washed my hands in the kitchen sink and then doused them with a healthy amount of hand sanitizer.

“And throw those soggy things away!”

“I just washed my hands!”

“Well, wash them again.”

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funny, but there was no laughter evident in the Hicks house this morning. Time to begin a new list of adjectives. I would work on that after my tea.

Which is exactly what I did as soon as I returned to my room, steaming cup of chamomile warming my cold hands?

The Hicks Family Influenza Disaster is…

Awful Beastly Cantankerous Depressing Gross Hateful Ill!!!!!!!!

Jaundice Morose Poorly Raunchy Sickly Terrible Unhealthy Vile Leaving out a few letters, I finished my list and I felt a little more like talking to Jay Allen, but just as I prepared to give him a call, my own cell began singing that hideous Blue Oyster Cult hit from the 1970s. At least Lilly wasn’t in the room to hear her personal greeting.

“How you feeling’?” Her nasally question sounded absolutely awful.

“Not much better than you sound,” I answered before I could help it. That was a typical Godzilly reply. She’s rubbing off on you, my inner voice said.

“I know. It’s awful, isn’t’ it? Are you going to school tomorrow? That should be a jolly great time.”

“I think the rule is, if you have a fever, you shouldn’t come to school. I do have a fever. In fact, I think my fever has a fever.

How about you?”

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I had to wait for Lilly to complete a round of sneezing and blowing—and I don’t think it was a put on—before she continued instead of waiting for a reply.

“Mom keeps pouring water down my throat, so I’ve spent as much time in the bathroom as I have in the bed. Have you heard from anyone else? I don’t think the twins have been victim to this yet. I hope not. I was going to go next door to check on them, but Mom forbids it, just in case their household is free of germs.”

The more Lilly spoke, the less I recognized the person on the other end of the phone line. Then again, I’d had very few civil conversations with her. The very fact that she called me just to chat was extremely puzzling. There must have been an ulterior reason.

“Well, I just wanted to check on you and see what you’re going to do about school. I’ll call you again tomorrow.” And just like that the phone went dead and Godzilly crawled back into her den. What was with her? She didn’t even like me. Now she was sending me secretive winks of conspiracy and making random phone calls as if we were the greatest of friends.

For some reason, it wasn’t as much fun to secretly humiliate her with a list of expletives as it used to be. Instead of devoting time to creating a list of words that expressed my feelings for the Godzilly, I decided to have a little chat with God instead.

I glanced up at the ceiling as if I could see Him as I offered a silent prayer to give me some answers. Help me be more like Maggie and keep my pinky swear promise to treat Lilly in a more humane way. The best way to be nice to Godzilly was to truly know her.

So, I guess that needed to be my next project.

What did I actually know about Lilly besides the fact that she’s just plain mean? Lilly was born addicted to whatever substance her birth mother used. Lilly was an orphan. Lilly’s grandparents were raising her, but she refers to them as Mom and Dad. Lilly was very pretty but had a nasty attitude.

From what Pastor Larry told me, Lilly’s grandparents rescued her from the neonatal ward nearly a month after her parents abandoned her. At that point, they were in charge of her destiny.

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Did they put her up for adoption or take legal responsibility for her?

Tears leaked from my eyes as I thought about that lonely, abandoned baby being kept alive in the cold, sterile environment of a public hospital. Not knowing the touch of her mother’s hand or being warmed with her father’s embrace. It would be so easy to feel sorry for Lilly. It wasn’t her fault she was what she was. But it didn’t make her attitude less hurtful.

The next morning, my temperature wasn’t as high as over the weekend, but it still exceeded the normal range. I had no desire to go to school, and I didn’t have to do much to convince Mom that it wasn’t a good idea. She was fine with me lounging around the house, since that was exactly what she and Dad were also doing.

Dad was supposed to begin his new position on Wednesday.

He really hadn’t planned to spend his last few days of freedom nursing himself to health, but that’s the way it was ending up. He was keeping busy with online work in preparation for the big day.

I checked my school page to find no new assignments, which was a blessing. I was sure the quality of any work I completed would not be impressive. My head was full of rocks, and it was difficult to concentrate on anything for too long before zoning out again in the clutches of the influenza.

Jasmine texted me around noon to report she had fallen prisoner to the sickness, and that it was the worst thing she’d ever experienced. I felt her pain.

I did receive a group email from Pastor Larry explaining how we were going to begin practicing for our grade school performance as soon as things returned to normal. The school had asked that we all dress as the flowers we each represented. That sounded hokey. I tried to imagine how Ginger would dress. Weren’t ginger roots kind of drab? She was a creative person, though, so I’m certain she could come up with something appropriate. She’d enjoy the challenge anyway.

I spent the rest of the day deciding what color rose I would represent.

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29 The days raced toward our performance at the elementary school performance, which we nailed. As a thank you, the school awarded each of the Praise Petals with a personal backpack reflecting the color of our name’s flower. Fortunately Ginger’s was green instead of root brown and mine mirrored the red color of my chosen rose.

In a few weeks we would celebrate the end of the school year at Maggie’s pool party and Jay Allen would be home.

Bur, first, I still had to host a sleepover for Lilly. This, of course, that sent my mother into a frenzy of celebration. Her little girl was finally in tune with her teenage self and practicing the silliness of her teen years. Although Maggie and Jasmine had already slept at my house, that could not even compete with the magnitude of what was happening this evening. All seven Praise Petals under one roof—mine—and sleeping in one room—mine, again. As I conjured up words of encouragement, I could only imagine the worst. What if Lilly’s recent attitude adjustment reversed itself into the old Godzilly? What if the twins suddenly 119

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had a breakthrough and Ivy? Iris? decided to choose tonight to find her voice?

What if Jasmine forgot all about being the social butterfly she was becoming and got all dark and moody like her old self ?

What if my mother got all weird and planted herself smack dab in the middle of our group of teenage babble, reliving her own high school memories ad nauseum?

What if I just couldn’t handle the pressure of hosting and made a typical and final fool of myself ?

Tonight was my big chance to strike gold with my church friends and seal the deal of continuing friendship.

I examined my bedroom one more time for dirt or embarrassing posters of my odd collection of musicians and funny animals.

I made sure the abundance of pillows on my bed were stacked neatly and attractively. My closet doors were closed and hiding any random items shoved in there.

My shoes were put away and my dresser top straightened, so I walked back into the living room to await my guests. They were supposed to start arriving in about an hour, but with this group one never knew who would be early. I had told them all not to worry about air mattresses or sleeping bags. Mom had taken care of all of that. Which bothered me again, hopping upon hope that she remembered this was my party and not hers.

Dad was just as bad. He already had a stack of movies arranged on the hutch in the den and had taken it upon himself to arrange floor cushions all around the spacious room for lounging and viewing. He was another concern. It was bad enough thinking about Mom joining the fun; if Dad got involved—actually, that might not be a bad idea. He was fun and everyone enjoyed being around him. I just wondered how weird that would be. I hoped I didn’t make any horrible social faux pas. I’m sure Lilly would point it out if I did.

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lieved our resident Godzilly to be sincere. Of course, Maggie knew nothing of Lilly’s backstory, as I could proudly say that information had gone no further. As far as I knew, Lilly was also in the dark about my knowledge. Pastor hadn’t mentioned it again, and I was beginning to feel like he set me up with that information for one of his “tests.” If that was so, I think I passed.

Hearing a car door close outside, I jerked myself back to the here and now to peek out the window. Jasmine was scheduled to pick up Maggie. And sure enough, her grandmother’s red Mustang was parked in the driveway.

I watched as the two girls armed themselves with duffle bags and backpacks. Good grief! Had they brought all their personal belongings? I imagined you only needed some jammies and a toothbrush to participate.

Evidently, I was wrong.

Maggie actually had a rolled up sleeping bag under one arm.

A giant teddy bear flopped under the other arm that was already loaded down with the straps of multiple handbags and totes.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a single night event? She looked like she was headed out to a full week retreat.

Jasmine wasn’t much better. She attempted to wrap what appeared to be a huge body pillow around her neck to free her hands to juggle what looked like a bag of books or magazines, a plastic grocery bag, and a duffle. Because the body pillow was as big as she was and not built to curl at such an angle, it didn’t remain where she wanted and ended up flipping over her head and landing on the ground in front of her where it promptly tripped her.

Luckily, that large cushion served as a safe landing, and Jasmine lay sprawled on the pillow surrounded by the random items that had spilled from their respective containers.

While Maggie attempted to pull her friend up, she too lost her balance and ended up lying on the pavement. I smiled as I watched the two of them break out in a fit of laughter that ended in a sitting hug and more laughter.

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me. I hadn’t heard her enter the room, but there she was, wringing a dish towel and smiling at the antics of two of our houseguests.

“They look like they could use it. I’ll get the door.”

“Rose!” Maggie shrieked when she saw me and broke out into a fresh round of giggles. “Help us! We’ve been overcome with hilarity!”

Maggie knew my passion for words and often invented terms to entertain me. Hilarity was a legitimate word, but it sounded kind of weird, so I guess that was her gift for me this morning.

As I approached them, Jasmine tossed random items at me.

“Here, catch , Rose!” she yelled as I ducked a flying black sweatshirt.

“Hey, chickies, what are you doing? Starting the party outside?” Lilly appeared out of nowhere with the twins close behind both smiling widely. Ginger’s mother pulled up at the end of the driveway, and the redhead burst out of the passenger door, attempting unsuccessfully to slide her overnight bag across the asphalt into the current fracas. Of course the cotton fabric snagged on the rough surface and halted its projection before reaching its destination.

“You people need to get organized if you’re going to stage a revolution.” Ginger’s face was already scrunched up with that oh-so-familiar chairman-of-the-board look.

“You need to relax, el prez. This is supposed to be a weekend of fun, not work. And no one here gets to be in charge,” Lilly reminded the smiling red-headed Italian and grabbed Ginger’s Vera Bradley carry-all. “I’ve always wanted one of these. Thanks, Root.”

We all laughed, including Ginger, at the impromptu plant reference. I think she might have liked it. It gave her a less imposing identity than the uptight drill sergeant reputation she was known for. Pastor Larry would approve.

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created. He knew from the beginning we were meant to be together. We all had flaws that were complemented by one another’s strengths. Our needs weren’t always obvious, but they existed.

Maggie needed a physical connection with girls who lived in town and who needed to learn you can’t always judge a book by its cover.

Jasmine needed social interaction to get out from beneath her literal cloak of seclusion.

Ginger laughing at herself was the most obvious of the success stories. A smile was often foreign to Ginger. A smile was rather frivolous, in her mind. There were more urgent issues to address in that fiery redhead The twins—they were still a relative mystery. Iris? Ivy? were sweet, maybe too innocent, and, without a doubt, the nicest girls in the bunch.

Of course, Lilly was the toughest challenge of Pastor’s planned project. Lilly was living with obstacles none of us could understand. Lilly did not choose to be who she was, but she had a choice in becoming who she wanted to be—with our help. ‘Cause that’s what friends were for.

And then, there was me.

I think I needed these girls more than anyone else. So far, they didn’t seem to mind. As long as I could pull off this weekend without making a mess of things, maybe we’d be friends for life—or at least until we graduated. We hadn’t killed one another yet.

But, for now, I needed to don my hostess personae.

I wasn’t surprised to find Dad flipping pancakes in the kitchen when I herded the girls into the house.

“Good morning, ladies!” he announced with a lopsided grin, spatula raised high. “Ready for some flapjacks? After breakfast, I’ll leave you alone.”

I supposed some people would be embarrassed if their dad greeted his daughter’s friends wearing a pink frilly apron and chef hat—and they would be right to do so. He looked ridiculous.

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“Cool outfit, Mr. Hicks,” Lilly announced.

Of all us, she would be the one to prove me wrong.

After breakfast, I led the girls to my room for oohs and aahs.

I didn’t mind showing off my private oasis. I loved my bedroom.

Mom had put extra care into assuring that her only child would be ultra-comfortable. We weren’t made of money, but she believed in comfort.

“You have so many books!” Ginger observed. “I didn’t know you were such a reader! Mind if I browse?” She lovingly passed her hand over the spines of the little library housed on the handmade shelves that Mom, Jay Allen, and I had painted a few years ago. That had been an adventure. Jay Allen with a paint brush! If you looked closely, there was probably visual evidence of his nonability. The result was one of love, though.

“Oh, my gosh! You have the complete collection!” Ginger brought her face close to a series of my favorite novels, totally lost in her admiration of my reading preference.

“You can borrow them any time you want,” I heard myself say. Jay Allen would be appalled at my willingness to hand over these revered books. I didn’t share my books with anyone.

Ivy? Iris? moved toward the queen-sized bed I had inherited when Mom and Dad splurged on an upgrade for their own room.

“These are so pretty,” one of them said and reached out to touch my collection of stuffed bears.

Another substitute for actual living, breathing companions, my bear collection was a growing family. I knew all their names and a new member of the family usually appeared at least once a year for a birthday, Christmas, or Easter present. Even Jay Allen liked my bear collection and enjoyed the kinetic relationship he had with my furry pals. I had secretly named one of the tiny bears after him.

“This is a pretty rad computer setup,” Jasmine commented from her vantage point at the window where my desk was located, perfect for outside viewing.

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observing my private lifestyle, Lilly stood quietly at the doorway, having not moved any further into the depths of the space. I worried she was scheming to ruin this moment for me. Lilly hadn’t attacked me for weeks, but I knew the potential was buried underneath that pseudo-serene expression on her face.

She said nothing, though. Just continued to stand there and watch the rest of us, as if for once she wasn’t meant to be the center of attention. She allowed me that privilege.

“Hey, Lilly, don’t just stand there. Come join the party,” Maggie finally said.

“Okay, what’s the plan, girls? What’s our first plan of action?

Crafts? Movies? Magazines?” Jasmine poured the jumbled contents of one of her plastic bags out on the floor. And, sure enough, she had the makings of a full weekend, including an assortment of pre-packaged snacks.

Lilly and Ginger sat down beside the haul and sorted through the mess. Ginger began organizing the items into common themes, while Lilly riffled through the snacks. She reached under the bed to retrieve an errant pack of peanuts. A curious expression passed over her face.

“What’s this?” she asked and produced a long-forgotten package.

Eyebrow wax! Oh, no! I had totally forgotten all about that purchase and my sincere intentions to use it.

Lilly peered closely at the box and then at me and then back to the instruction side of the product. The corners of her lips began to spread upward until it was obvious she definitely was in scheme mode. Ginger moved closer to her until she, too, could read the package print. Her own eyebrows came together in a quizzical pose before looking intently in my direction.

“What is it?” Maggie and Jasmine knelt down to be on the same viewing level as Ginger and Lilly. Ivy? Iris? looked on, heads tilted in identical fashion as they formulated their own opinions.

I grabbed for the offensive box. “It’s nothing. Just something for a science experiment.” My attempt to get the box from Lilly’s 125

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grasp failed when she quickly turned her body away from mine.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” She squinted closely at the directions.

“Why don’t we do the experiment now? Let’s see if this stuff works. Who wants to be our guinea pig?”

No one looked at me, but I knew they wanted to. As much as my overgrown eyebrow plagued me, only Lilly had ever drawn attention to it. Now was her chance to truly plant the final nail in my coffin of isolation.

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to see if WaxAway works.” Maggie said. “The commercials are so convincing, but they’re so hokey.

If it works, I’ll save time this summer since I wouldn’t have to shave every single day before going to work.” Maggie leaned over Lilly’s shoulder to get a closer look at the preparations.

“We need to first test a small patch of skin to make sure we don’t have an allergic reaction to it. Rose, do you have a small towel and something we can put water in? A bowl?” Maggie continued to silently read the directions to herself before repeating them out loud.

I couldn’t believe no one had suggested that I be the guinea pig. Weren’t they aware of the dominant growth on my forehead?

I know Lilly knew it was there. It was unlike her to not take every opportunity possible to highlight my downfalls.

But they were all focused on Maggie’s plan to de-hair her legs.

“Wait a minute, guys. Let’s not get so anxious to waste Rose’s purchase. This stuff isn’t cheap.” Jasmine looked sheepishly at me. “This is for a school project, isn’t it?”

Relieved to remove attention to the hair removal, I nodded vigorously in agreement.

“So, before we get gung-ho on spending Rose’s hard-earned money, let’s agree to repay her the next time we go to the mall.”

“Here, here!” Ginger cast her solitary vote.

“How’s that, Rose? Will that be okay?”

Before I could logically construct a reply, Lilly caught my eye and realization spread across her face. She knew. She knew I didn’t have a science class. There was no experiment. She knew what I was going to do with the WaxAway. I’m certain my guilty expres126

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sion matched her look of epiphany. She knew she had the upper hand—and so did I. But instead of making a huge ugly deal of her revelation, Lilly instead slipped the box under the bed where she’d found it and suggested that trip to the mall be now rather than later.

“It’s a beautiful day outside. Let’s hike to the mall to get some exercise and look for some stuff to do makeovers. Sound good?

Then we can pour over these beauty mags for inspiration.”

Maggie seemed to catch on and hurriedly agreed with Lilly.

“That sounds like fun! Let’s go tell Kendra where we’re going.”

I was shocked. Nothing more was said about the WaxAway, and if anyone else realized what was going on, it wasn’t mentioned. I could only hope that was a good thing.

Lilly winked at me before climbing to her feet, pulling Ginger with her.

Mom consented to our plan, but made me promise to call her when we were ready to leave the mall so we weren’t walking home in the dark with our arms full of beauty supplies. She and Dad would bring both vehicles to carry us home for pizza and soft drinks.

Four hours later, true to their word, my parents arrived promptly when I called. Between our visits to Sephora, Ulta Beauty, and the Gap, we were loaded down with purchases for our Big Reveal Night of Makeovers. I still didn’t understand why we were doing this, but so far it was fun.

With Mom’s credit card in hand and a set budget, I got my fair share of “tools” for the evening.

Maggie planned to wax away her leg hairs, and Ginger wanted to try the remover on her underarms, but I was hoping we could talk her out of that. It sounded far too painful.

I knew my mother would weasel her way into being a part of the fun, so it didn’t surprise me when we arrived home to find the kitchen island and counters organized with bowls full of cotton balls, several sets of tweezers, combs and bobby pins, and an assortment of colorful aprons to protect our clothes from the dyes and oils in the cosmetics we would soon be using.

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Dad disappeared after we had all gorged on pizza from Mascara’s Diner, so we were totally left to our all-girl evening.

“Okay, I know you want to dive right in and try everything, but there needs to be a method to this madness,” Mom announced as if she were the madame of makeup. She did use to be a Mary Kay lady, so I suppose there was a certain level of experience there.

And it looked like this was turning into a Mary Kay class. She had set up stations for each of us with her unused facial trays and product samples.

“First, we’re going to cleanse our faces, so I’ve set out warm cloths for this. Just dip your cloth into the little dot of cleanser.

Smooth that over your faces and necks before wiping it off with that same cloth.”

Mom demonstrated her instructions and watched approvingly as we mimicked her motions.

“A daily cleansing routine is important for your complexion.

You need to do this twice daily, once in the morning and once before bed.” She was really getting into her spiel, and I no longer felt like she was my mom honing in on my night. She was like an invited professional offering her services.

“Okay, good. The second little blob—” The word blob kind of ruined her professionalism and we all giggled. “Of white stuff is our moisturizer. Different skin types require different moisturizing elements, but for this demonstration, we’ll just all use the combination cream.”

Mom smiled at us and demonstrated the upward motion of smoothing the moisturizer from our necks up. A couple of girls commented on how smooth their skin felt, and Lilly said she liked the smell of the product.

We sounded like a group of pampered housewives from an old television commercial, oohing and aahing. I could just imagine us sipping tea and coffee from china cups while we nodded at one another in our proper sitting room.

“Jasmine, don’t get ahead of us,” Mom reprimanded.

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Mascara wand in hand, Jazz smiled sheepishly at Mom. “Sorry,” Jasmine apologized while dabbing at her watery eyeball with the tissue Mom offered.

“We’re not quite there yet, Miss Jones. Be patient. Beauty takes time.” Mom had assumed the patient yet condescending voice of an annoyed teacher.

She realized it about the same time as the rest of us, and we all broke out into raucous laughter.

“Okay, girls, that’s enough seriousness. If you want to continue with the class, we can learn the correct way of applying foundation, eye color, and mascara.” She looked pointedly at Jasmine. “But we don’t have to. I know you ladies have things to do.

You don’t need Rose’s mom hovering over you.”

If she were disappointed at this admission, she didn’t show it, but I could see Mom was in her glory.

“No, don’t leave us yet,” Maggie pleaded. “I’d love to know more about this. You know my mother. She’s not much into makeup, so if I’m going to wear it—” “You don’t need it!” Lilly announced. “You’re beautiful just the way you are!”

Maggie grinned at Lilly before continuing her argument.

“Thanks, Lilly, but I really would like to know about this stuff.

Wouldn’t you all?”

How were we supposed to argue with her when our instructor was standing right in front of us? “Yes,” Ginger said. “I really want to know more about wearing the right cosmetics. It’s difficult when you’re a redhead.”

We all nodded. That’s when I realized that our personal differences were often overlooked when we didn’t live in one another’s skins.

Why would a redhead have needs unlike mine? We both had hair and skin. We were both females.

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the twins. They’re so fair, while my darker skin won’t look as good with the pastel shades they should use. Am I right, Mrs. Hicks?”

Mom smirked at Jasmine and nodded. “That’s correct, Jasmine. You are absolutely right. That’s why such companies as Mary Kay offer an assortment of skin care products that are in tune with different skin tones and characteristics. Where you might be drier in the T-Zone—” Mom traced a finger down her nose and across her cheeks. “My skin might be oilier, and vice versa.

That’s why skincare and cosmetic companies work so hard to accommodate each woman’s personal needs.”

“What about acne?” Lilly asked. “Do you have any advice about fighting the zit bombs?”

“Excellent question—and a very appropriate one at that. It doesn’t look like any of you are suffering from that particular teenage malady, but acne is not only a teenage thing. Adults suffer from occasional outbreaks as well. It’s just that people your age are more prone to oily skin and poor diets that result in pimples.”

Mom picked up a bottle of astringent and a tube of what she called facial masque, and explained their uses. “If you’re interested, we could all thoroughly exfoliate.” As she slathered the greenish mud across her face, we cringed at the monster she became.

But that didn’t stop us from following in her steps and putting the green stuff on our own faces as well.

“You should leave this on for approximately fifteen minutes, or until it is completely dry, and then gently wipe it off with a warm cloth.” She set a timer and went on to talk to us about appropriate colors for our individual skins. By the time the timer sounded, we all knew our best eye shadow shades.

As if on cue, Dad slipped into the kitchen and screamed.

“Holy Smokes! What happened to you?” His eyes were huge, making him as funny looking as Mom with the hardened, cracked mud threatening to flake off her face. “The horror! Is this what 130

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you actually look like before painting your faces in the morning?

Egad!”

He backed out of the room with a can of cola in his hand and a horrified grimace on his face.

“Don’t worry,” Mom laughed. “He won’t be back.”

“You got that right,” Dad announced from the hallway. “In fact, I’m going down to the church for a while. I think that’s the safest place to be right now. But, I think I’ll take this with me as proof of why I had to leave.”

We heard the click of his cellphone camera before realizing that he had caught us on film. Nine green-faced aliens.

“Nooo!” our outraged voices screeched in unison.

Dad’s comic-book laugh followed him out the front door and into the driveway.

“Why did he do that?” Lilly squealed.

The protests grew in volume, getting even the silent Iris? Ivy? involved.

Lilly was the only one of us who appeared unconcerned. She laughed uncontrollably until the rest of us joined in.

“Don’t we all look absolutely marvelous?” Maggie held a hand mirror in front of her face.

Once we had washed our faces, we headed to my room.

“That was fun, Rose. Your mom’s cool. Thank you for planning tonight.” Lilly’s sincerity surprised me, and even though it was my first instinct to deny the compliment, I just couldn’t put the humbling words in my mouth. It was easier to go along with the false assumption.

“Now, the pièce de résistance.” Lilly slid to the floor in my bedroom and retrieved the box of hair wax beneath my bed.

“Maggie can now rid herself of her hairy legs—and Rose—tada!”

With a flourish, she presented a second box of WaxAway on the palm of her hands as if in a tray. “We are going to get rid of that eyebrow once and for all. I’m assuming that is your science project.”

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known my full intent for having that box of wax the entire time, but had refrained herself in uncharacteristic Lilly fashion. Had she planned this as the grand finale? Was she attempting to be sensitive to my handicap? Or did she plan to totally destroy the good feelings I had experienced from all the comradery of earlier in the day?

“I imagine you’ve tried a few things to improve it, Rose. And I know I’ve been kind of cruel to you about it in the past. I hope you will accept my apologies and let me help to rectify that. I actually know a thing or two about waxing and would like to help. If you’ll let me.”

The room was dust bowl silent as all eyes were on Lilly. And then on me. Then on Lilly again. It was like they were watching a tennis match.

“I, uh…”

What did I do? Consent to the Godzilly and put my face in her hands? Literally?

“Rose, that’s a great idea. There really isn’t as much hair up there as you think there is. My mom gets her eyebrows waxed all the time.” Ginger nodded encouragingly.

“I’ll let Lilly do my legs first—or at least one of them—and then I’ll decide if the pain is worth repeating the process,” Maggie said.

Wait a minute! Pain? There’s pain involved? Just as I was weakening my resolve to allow Lilly Jenkins anywhere near my forehead, Maggie had to go and douse me with the thought of physical pain.

“Well, of course there has to be a little discomfort,” Lilly explained. “But, it’s just like a little bee sting and then it’s over.”

Great. On top of everything else, I’m getting stung by a bee.

Not fun.

The twins were on my laptop computer googling waxing preparations and found several YouTube videos, so we gathered around the screen. The first thing we see is a caution to not exfoliate before treatment.

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I nearly cried with relief. There would be no waxing tonight.

We had just endured an entire exfoliation with our mud packs.

“Well, I guess it will have to wait for another time.” The relief had to be evident in my voice as I adjusted myself to another plan for the rest of the evening. We’d already had enough adventure. It was time to get some popcorn and watch movies. I reached for Jasmine’s backpack full of DVDs and started plowing through them.

“Not so fast, chickadee. That just means we have to wait until tomorrow. We’ll do Maggie’s legs tonight and your face in the morning before church.” Lilly’s confidence was annoying, but at least this gave me a little more time to breathe and come up with another reason to hold off. Morning was an easy part of the day to create diversions, especially since tomorrow was Sunday and we all had to get ready for church. There wouldn’t be time for such nonsense as hair removal.

Besides, after listening to Maggie squeal in misery when the first—and last—and only—strip of hair was removed from her left leg, I decided this might not be the best method of self-improvement for me.

Sunday morning started exactly as I predicted. Seven girls and two adults fighting for bathroom time, mirror privileges, and wardrobe consults made for a madhouse.

I didn’t know who was most surprised that we all made it to church on time. The twins did help out a bit when they decided to walk home and get ready at their house.

The first thing Pastor Larry did when Lilly, Jasmine, Maggie, Ginger, and I entered the church vestibule was run for cover.

Hiding behind the wilting Ficus tree behind the main door, he peered dramatically around the door frame before exhaling an exaggerated breath and looking to the heavens in relief.

“Thank goodness. Rosebud, when your dad showed me the pictures of last night, I thought the worst. It looked like you girls!”

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make it! Those sweet girls. What did you do to them? And where’s Kendra? Rose, you sacrificed your own mother? What is wrong with you girls?

Just at that moment, Tom Jenkins wheeled his chair between the pastor and us girls in mock protection mode. “Stay back, Pastor. I’ve got you covered.”

So, Dad had shared our mud faces with his fellow church friends. That was just great. Who says the female sex was the gossipy one? Men were just as bad.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Scarletti asked and immediately recoiled when he saw his daughter and her cohorts. “Ginger, honey, I was so scared. Are you alright?”

I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad’s candid camera shot of us didn’t end up on the big screen in the sanctuary. This wasn’t funny.

Not at all.

“Okay, that’s enough, fellas. Leave these poor girls alone. And, Mr. Hicks, delete that photograph! Immediately!” Mom grabbed for Dad’s Samsung just before he successfully shoved it in his back pocket. I swore right then and there never to allow my father to stay at home when the girls were over. If the girls ever agreed to come back.

Our singing was particularly subdued this morning and, of course, we all knew why. When the projector screen began its descent after the final hymn of the last service, my heart raced.

Tears formed at the thought of this epic act of humiliation. My life was over. To be ostracized by the entire congregation of Sacred Sanctuary. I looked nervously at my fellow Petals and easily read the mortification plastered on their faces. This was really happening!

Pastor faced the congregation. “We have a surprise this morning, and with time being of the essence, I ask that we pause for a few extra minutes before retreating into this gorgeous spring day.”

The video screen came to life. A young man’s face appeared.

“Good morning, Sacred Sanctuary, and thank you, for sticking around for a few extra minutes this morning. I just wanted to give 134

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you an update and let you know that my adventure is soon coming to an end.”

The image on the screen wasn’t immediately familiar. If not for his infectious smile, this handsome person could easily be overlooked as a complete stranger. How the little act of straightening his eyes to point straight ahead could totally alter someone’s appearance was amazing. Jay Allen smiled into the camera and greeted us, his extended family, with a confidence alien to his normally timid, guarded self.

“Wow, he’s hot,” Lilly whispered.

I nodded vigorously in agreement. There he was, big as life and full of his new reality. Jay Allen was beautiful.

“Even though I’ve missed most of the second semester, the school has provided me with an ample supply of home-bound work that has kept me caught up and ready to resume my academics as soon as I get back. Rose, I’m sorry I’ll miss your birthday. We’ll do something fun later.”

In the midst of good news, there’s still the absolute possibility of humiliation, which Jay Allen provided. My birthday was nothing I made public. It had always been a private celebration with my immediate family and Jay Allen.

“Par-ty!” Lilly said a little too loudly, earning a collective laugh from the congregation.

As Jay Allen’s face faded to black, tears ran down my face.

“So, your birthday’s next week? We’re going to have to do something about that,” Maggie said into my ear, squeezing my shoulder in excitement.

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30 It kinda crept up on me, my birthday. For years I had longed for this day, yet turning sixteen had somehow lost its allure while I was busy gaining friends, losing Jay Allen, and becoming a singer.

Jay Allen and I had talked often about getting our drivers licenses and our first cars, never having thought it possible that he would ever actually drive. We had always teased that I would be his personal chauffeur until we were too old to drive.

Now he had new eyes and a promising new future that no doubt included passing that driver’s test and driving into the sunset, possibly without me.

Obtaining my own driver’s license had taken backseat. Becoming sixteen no longer felt so important. Or did it? Now with a posse of girlfriends, the possibilities were endless. After church on Sunday, Lilly excitedly asked me what day next week I would be celebrating my birthday. Then she landed me with a bombshell. She, too, would be sixteen on April 30. The ironies were endless.

The descriptors varied.

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Awkward Bizarre Comical Dreadful Eerie Far out Grandiose Horrible Ironic Jolly Kinky Laughable Monstrous Obnoxious Perplexing Queer Rare Strange Terrible Unacceptable Virtually impossible Wonderful Zany Since I started alphabetizing my descriptions, I enjoyed my personal daily game even more. I felt like it was testing my powers of vocabulary on a different level. Look out SATs, this upcoming junior is in full college-prep mode. All thanks to a wicked past with Lilly Godzilly, I felt a new and almost uncomfortable twist in my attitude. She was wearing me down, one way or another.

And now we shared a very important day. For the rest of our lives we were sisters of the month of April. Oh, the horrors.

“We should do something special, you and me. Let’s plan our own little private party for two. Maybe go to lunch at Fargo’s at the mall and then treat ourselves to a spa day. Like the special 137

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girls we are. Whatdya say?” Her proposal caught me off guard— totally off guard. Was this Godzilly trying to be my friend? Bonding over a stupid day of the month like it was a magical ingredient to true friendship? She was up to something. Something I should never trust and would never agree to if Jay Allen were home. But he wasn’t due back for at least a week, and my protector Maggie wasn’t close enough to hear the danger.

“C’mon. Say yes. Besides, I need help picking out an anniversary gift for my parents. You’ve got good taste. I trust your instincts.”

Really? This was the second time Lilly had commented on my personal tastes. That should be indication enough of her sincerity. My parents were celebrating an anniversary soon themselves.

Dear God, I prayed silently, don’t let that be the same day as well.

Lilly and I may as well be Siamese twins.

“That sounds great,” I heard myself saying, and wondered who had taken over my brain.

“We can go Tuesday! We don’t have school that day.”

She was right. Tuesday was a teacher prep day. State testing always happened in the middle of May, and the teachers were required to attend special training days—as if they didn’t already know what they were doing.

Mademoiselle complained about it all the time. “If they’d just let us teach…” she was known to say when she was feeling particularly piqued about her career. “We spend far too much time being Guinea pigs rather than doing what we trained to do in the first place.” She was passionate about her job and about her students, but wasn’t too crazy about the lack of common sense that prevailed in the bureaucracy of her life’s goal of being a teacher.

And so, I had a date. A date with Lilly Godzilly Jenkins. That was fuel for nightmares, for sure.

Of course, Mom thought it was a wonderful idea and quickly volunteered to drive. The forecast predicted rain on Tuesday.

So, as it turned out, I donned my tie-dyed Praise Petals t-shirt and my favorite pair of blue jeans for my outing when Tuesday 138

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arrived. Mom had to remind me multiple times to get a move on, that Lilly would be waiting for us at the church door, but my legs were reluctant to move and my brain was still revolting. I was sentenced to spend the entire day at the mall with Lilly.

Maybe I would get lucky and there would be an emergency evacuation and we would have to leave.

“Let’s go, Rose! I swear you’re acting like you don’t want to go,” Mom urged from the front door where she stood impatiently swinging her key ring on her pointer finger.

Didn’t want to go? That’s an understatement. If she only knew.

But I got in the car and soon we were at the church.

“Yes! Yes! Great minds think alike,” Lilly greeted me excitedly as she folded herself into the backseat of Mom’s compact car after pointing down at her attire. She, too, was wearing a Praise Petals shirt. Great, I thought. We looked like we had planned it.

Her hair was pulled up into a casual ponytail, and she had evidently practiced some of the makeup rules she learned from my mother. She was smiling.

Maggie’s voice kept echoing in my head to be positive, to think only positive adjectives, and to enjoy this rare and hopefully painless adventure.

We walked around the mall, window shopping and periodically commenting on the spring fashions, until suddenly Lilly stopped at the display at Book Barn, announcing the arrival of a new title by one of my favorite authors of all times.

“Oh, my gosh! I just love her. Did you read that last one about the main character moving to a new school in the middle of the year? In the middle of nowhere? It’s a classic.” Lilly’s enthusiasm shocked me. She was a reader? And she liked the same author I did? Who was this person?

“Let’s go look at it, Rose. Do you mind?”

Not waiting for a reply, Lilly whipped right through the door to one of my favorite stores of all times, not waiting for me to follow but obviously fully expecting that to happen.

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pose, and I bet I know what it is.” Raymond, the store manager was an enigma. Supposedly a college student and working toward a degree in computer engineering, Raymond Foster seemed to always be making coffee at Book Barn or sitting on one of the old leather couches at the back of the store, strumming on a stringed instrument or giving a dulcimer lesson. I’m not sure when he ever attended classes.

“I just invented a new spring iced latte. Wanna be my guinea pigs?”

As if he knew we were going to come through that front door, Raymond handed us each a small drink and smiled encouragingly for us.

I recognized the tell-tale fragrance of lavender and spicy chai before nodding in approval. Heavenly.

“Heavenly, right?” Raymond echoed my thoughts before wiping down the counter.

“So, ladies, enjoy your drinks and check out that new novel by everyone’s favorite author. Let me know if you need anything else.”

We located hardback copies of Spring Petals immediately, and hurried to claim a spot on the leather couch at the back of the store, smiling giddily the entire time. Setting our cups on the old wooden coffee table in front of the sofa, we wordlessly settled down to absorb the first words of the first pages of the latest story that would surely keep me up tonight as I savored each word.

I don’t understand the world’s insistence on converting the written word to audio or electronic print when my greatest comfort was the smell, the feel of a freshly printed book. I caressed the book cover before opening it.

“Just smell it, Rose,” Lilly murmured, eyes closed, nose planted in the crease of the open book. “Isn’t it beautiful? I want to buy it for you for your birthday. May I?” “Okay—and I will buy you a copy for your birthday,” I countered, making us both smile.

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Okay, now this was truly getting weird.

After reading the first chapter of our respective novels, Lilly and I shared a sigh of satisfaction, Lilly and I paid for our purchases and headed off to Fargo’s Restaurant for a surprisingly pleasant sit-down lunch, before continuing our stroll through the shopping mall.

“Okay, it’s time,” Lilly announced at precisely 1:15. “C’mon, Rose, we have an appointment.”

I looked at her, knowing my eyebrow was lifted in confusion.

“Appointment?” The question lingered in the empty air as I skipped a couple of steps to catch up with Lilly on a mission.

“I told you we were getting spa treatments, and it looks like we’re all here.”

Stepping into Oasis Oasis, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Sitting on the cushy, white sectional sofa were the rest of the Petals, all wearing our trademark t-shirt.

“Where have you been?” Jasmine jumped up to tell the store manager we had arrived.

“I hope you don’t mind, Rose…” Maggie began.

“But we don’t care if you do,” Ginger interrupted.

“As a birthday present from us to you, we decided to give you a professional waxing,” Maggie continued. “You seem to think your eyebrows are a distraction, but I don’t think you see what we see. You are a pretty, cute, quirky girl who happens to sport what you think is an unfortunately large set of eyebrows. After studying the at-home procedure, we thought it would be better to go pro on your first attempt at taming them.”

Lilly reassuringly rubbed a hand up and down my arm.

“Lilly came up with the idea,” Jasmine said. “I thought you’d like a tattoo, but I was overruled.”

“Besides, your mother threatened to kill us if you came home with permanent paint on any part of your body,” Ginger added.

“So, we opted for a waxing instead.” Ivy? Iris? added.

I was stunned.

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be embarrassed.

“B, b, but…it’s Lilly’s birthday also,” I stuttered, this time without commentary from Lilly.

“I’m getting the tattoo,” Lilly said, and rubbed her upper arm.

“Right here.”

I guess my expression mirrored the horror I felt, and they all laughed.

“No, I’m kidding. That’s something we can all do together when we make it big in the music business,” Lilly said. “Let’s get this show on the road and make Rose bee-you-tee-ful.”

The technician smiled from the archway separating us from the depths of a mysterious addition behind the front counter from whence my fate awaited.

Two hours later, when Mom met us at the front entrance of the mall, my elation had finally died down, but Lilly was still babbling about the tattoo procedure we had witnessed down the hall at Pretty in Paint, the ink parlor specially for women.

“It just doesn’t look like it would be all that painful,” Jasmine said.

“It’s all that pink. Pink chairs, pink walls, pink uniforms. It’s all that subliminal girl power. They lull you into believing you are stronger than you know.”

Too bad I hadn’t been lulled before relinquishing a portion of my face earlier. The surprisingly little bit of hair removal I had undergone was definitely painful. Momentary, like the promised bee sting, but not something I cared to experience for any longer than the few seconds it took to rip the wax off my face.

Mom was waiting at the mall entrance, and if she noticed the significance of my experience, she didn’t let on. I didn’t understand. It’s a fact that my eyebrow always entered the room before me. It was the first and last memory of me. Why didn’t my own mother recognize the significance of its disappearance?

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31 “So fill me in. What’s been happening?” Jay Allen rearranged his beach towel and shook pool water from his hair. He was a cute, shaggy mess. And he was home. Finally home, home, home.

Fill him in? Really? That might take a while.

Where should I start? With Lilly’s inclusion in a church singing group? With Maggie Myers’ admission of being a normal, angsty teen just like the rest of us? Should I tell him about Pastor Larry’s early life as a bad boy or the fact that his one and only true love offed herself at a keg party years ago? Would he want to know how the issue of my unibrow was solved and by whom?

Did he really care about the flu epidemic that kept two communities on medical alert? Was he interested in why he was invited to an all-girl pool party at the exclusive Twin Oaks Country Club?

Oh, where to start, where to start?

Had he even noticed the various looks of shy admiration his female companions had been throwing his way since we arrived?

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acted star struck, as if a new guy were in town and not the feeble cross-eyed twerp they had all made fun of for years.

Especially Lilly Godzilly Jenkins. She only had eyes for Jay Allen. At one time, I would have been furious and probably a bit—or more than a bit—jealous.

In all reality, Lilly wasn’t such a bad sort at all.

“Well.” I started to grab hold of at least one fact to pass on to Jay Allen.

“Hey, Jay,” Lilly purred before I could speak. “It’s so good to have you back home. You haven’t missed much, though. Same ol’ small town Ellison. Wanna go for a swim?”

Jay Allen literally jumped at the invitation, not bothering to ask me to join them.

So, that’s the way it’s going to be from now on? Before letting myself get angry, I shook my head and smiled a little smile at their departing backs.

“Swell. Going to be a swell, sunny summer,” I said to no one in particular.

The Petals were in a circle in the middle of the pool, waving wildly at me to join them. And I did. I executed a perfect cannonball right in the center of their circle, dousing a surprised Jay Allen and an outraged Godzilly at the same time. She might be a new friend, but Lilly looked better wet.

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High School sophomore, Rose Hicks, tolerates her limited social life as long as her sidekick, Jay Allen, is by her side, but when Jay receives the best news of his life Rose is forced to survive the rest of the school year at the mercy of school bully GODZILLY JENKINS. When she is recruited as a member of an all-girl praise team, Rose realizes that even the most popular girls have problems and that mean girls need love too.

P E TA L S

A CHURCH OF GO NOVEL

Lisa A. McCombs

Award-winning author and veteran teacher of thirty-three years, Lisa A. McCombs had a front-row seat for adolescent angst until multiple sclerosis entered the picture and ended her beloved career as a public school teacher. Now Lisa communicates with her preferred age group through realistic fiction that covers speaks to the youth of today, yesterday, and tomorrow.

Lisa’s YA titles include Abby, Raspberry Beret, and Opening Pandora’s Box, a trilogy inspired and edited by a special group of middle school students intent upon helping their teacher achieve the dream of becoming published. The Church of Go series is Lisa’s current project that includes award-winning Bombs Bursting in Air and Praise Petals. Her book awards include a Mom's Choice Award, Gold Readers' Favorite International Book Award, Gold Literary Classics Award, and a Next Generation Indie Book Award.

P R A I S E

“There was a Church of God that I had driven past numerous times, but one time there was something different about the sign. The ‘D’ from GOD had fallen down. As I’m driving home, sermon ideas began to run through my mind. ‘Church of GO!’ This is exactly what the big ‘C’ Church should exemplify; Big ‘C’ meaning not just one singular church or denomination.

What she is doing in her GOing outside the walls and doors of the Church.

The ‘Church of GO’ will GO and make disciples of all nations baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Great Commission Jesus gave was not for the Church to be a building, but a movement of love sending us on the GO!” —Pastor Larry Buckland, Life Church, Fairmont, WV

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