Find all the parts of this story here.
Chapter 3: Saints and Sinners
Part 2: Sam
Sam looked at her downturned face and pondered her tears. The woman was really torn up about missing a couple of church services? Something suspiciously near the middle of his chest tightened and released, leaving him feeling warm – and puzzled. On a whim, pure impulse really, he reached out and offered his hand. To his great surprise, Sophie slid her slender, cold fingers into his. That warm feeling spread from his chest and his fingers to fill his whole body. What was this?
“I’m sorry you missed it,” he said quietly. She nodded, leaving her chin tucked so her eyes were on her lap. Or their hands?
“I take it they didn’t change anything at Resurrection when Lent started?” Sam asked.
“Not a thing. Didn’t even mention it. I can’t believe I had no clue!” Sophie sounded distraught and almost like she was castigating herself.
“Sophie, it’s not your fault if they didn’t announce it,” he tried to absolve her.
“No, but I should have paid better attention,” she nearly wailed, yet still maintained her respectful whisper. “I’ve just never had to, and I got so caught up in work and-.” She cut herself off abruptly, leaving Sam to wonder just what kept her busy. Dance? Maybe.
“Well, we can’t change the past, but you can come to the rest of the services,” Sam suggested, pointing a finger of his free hand toward the bulletin she still clutched.
A few deep breaths passed before she spoke again.
“You’re absolutely right. I can.” She sat up straight and finally looked at him. “Thank you.” Her tiny smile sent that warm feeling wandering up his arm again.
The second he recognized his mother’s voice talking to Pauline Johnson in the back of church, Sam gave Sophie’s hand a squeeze and let go. He was not interested in her matchmaking endeavors, today or any day. He had only meant to console Sophie.
Sure, and there’s oceanfront property in Williamson, he grumbled to himself.
“Sam! You’re not in your usual place. Who’s this lovely lady?”
Sam rose and turned in the pew to greet his mom with a hug.
“Hi, Mom. This is Sophie Lane. Sophie, this is my mom Laurie.” Sam performed the introductions. Sophie stood and reached awkwardly around Sam to shake Laurie’s hand.
“Welcome, Sophie. What brings you here?” Laurie asked with a very obvious side-eye at Sam. He rolled his eyes, but his mom had already looked away.
“I’ve been attending Resurrection in Williamson, but it’s not my speed. I met Sam through work, and he suggested I visit Bethel,” Sophie explained far more succinctly than Sam could have drummed up at the last second.
Maybe marketers had silver tongues…
“Oh, well, how lovely!” his mom exclaimed. “Can we join your pew?”
“Um…” Sophie hesitated and looked to Sam, who barely held his grimace in check. That one look would give his mom food for drama for the next month of Sundays…
“Up to you,” he shrugged.
“Sure, please do,” Sophie hesitantly offered.
“Excellent! Dan!” his mom turned and hollered – well, called out, but still, it was right before church and she was kind of loud – for his dad.
It took a few minutes for his dad to break off his conversation, by which point his mom had managed to settle herself on the other side of Sophie. The church pews were fairly small, holding six adults on average. Sam was against the side aisle, then Sophie to his right, then his mom. His dad slid in next to his mom just as the bells began ringing.
“This is my husband Dan,” his mom stage-whispered to Sophie. Sophie, God bless her, just smiled and nodded a greeting.
Sam kept a close eye on Sophie throughout the service, but she never faltered in maneuvering between the liturgy and the hymns. She recited parts of it from memory, even. When they reached the recitation of the Creed, he noticed she closed her eyes to say it and a tear snaked down her cheek. She didn’t bother wiping it away.
Sam momentarily wished he was willing to defy his mother’s meddling and hold Sophie’s hand again, even for a moment, but he just wasn’t that brave. So he settled for gently bumping her shoulder. She kept speaking, but a soft smile curled up the corner of her lips.
Why would she cry but smile? Why would the Creed make someone cry?
Then it hit him – Resurrection. He sincerely doubted they recited the Creed on any kind of regular basis, given their propensity to attempt appeals to the unchurched masses. Sophie probably hadn’t stood shoulder-to-shoulder with like-minded believers, reciting their shared foundational beliefs, in months. Her tears were not of sorrow, exactly, except maybe sorrow over what she had missed. This was filling her cup.
That confounding warmth bubbled up in the middle of his ribcage again. Though he had so very little to do with it, he was still pleased as punch with his part in getting Sophie here today. It felt good to have made a good suggestion, then see her follow through and be happy about it.
In short, he felt good. With her.
Huh. Wasn’t expecting that with the quiet little marketer.
When they got to the communion portion of the service, Sophie remained in the pew while the Harrisons went up, quietly whispering that she would wait until she had met the pastor. As he resumed his seat, Sam noticed an incessant buzzing from the little purse tucked by Sophie’s feet.
“Are you on call?” he whispered.
“Marketers are never on call,” she whispered back, wrinkling her nose.
“Your phone is ringing off the hook.” Sam dipped his chin towards her bag.
“Oh!” She quickly leaned down and pulled a purple-cased smartphone out of the back pocket of her purse. She hung up on someone – he saw the name “Amy” on the screen – before completely shutting the device down.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him when she had sat up again.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
She shrugged. “She goes to Resurrection. Probably just checking on me, since we are some of the few who never miss a Sunday there.”
And then communion was over and the service continued, ending their stilted conversation.