sixteen
KELLI FOUGHT TO STAY AWAKE. PASTOR LYLES’S SERMON had her interest, but she hadn’t hit the bed until three in the morning, and even then she couldn’t sleep. She’d planned to attend the eleven thirty service, but once again Reese had been her alarm, barking frantically at eight o’clock in a doggie duel with the Border collie that lived behind them. Once awake, there was no going back. The song took over, looping in her mind, filling her with a rush of wonder. Had she and Brian really made a recording for their baby? It didn’t seem real, even though she had a CD to prove it.
Sleep deprivation hit a third of the way into the sermon, without much to counteract it . . . except passing notes. Kelli peeked down at the phone inside her purse, stomach buckling to hide her laughter. She’d just texted that to Heather—and Heather texted back.
IF TEACHER COMES FOR NOTE, DELETE MY NAME. HEATHER = DOUBLE DETENTION.
It was funny and sad at the same time. Kelli looked up, trying to track with the sermon, but when Pastor Lyles mentioned that nothing could separate us from God’s love, not even our sins, it made her think of Heather again. She poised her fingers inside her purse.
GOOD STUFF ABOUT GOD’S LOVE IN SERMON. WISH YOU WERE HERE.
Stephanie bumped her with a shoulder, her eye on Kelli’s handbag.
Kelli bumped back. “What?”
She glanced down the pew at Dana and Scott. What would they think if they knew she was texting Heather right now? She almost felt bad for being happy about their friendship, but she couldn’t help it. Heather was one of the first people she wanted to tell about last night. She knew Heather would totally get how difficult it was emotionally— the song, as well as working with Brian—yet amazing in its totality.
A new text flashed across her screen. :-( WOULD LOVE TO HEAR. NEED TO FIND A CHURCH. PRAY FOR ME.
Kelli made a sad face as well as she stared at the message, and Stephanie bumped her again to show her that people were getting to their feet. How did she miss the wrap-up of the sermon? She’d have to make sure she got the CD—Duh! She could get Heather one too.
They sang along with the praise and worship team, Logan leading. Heather hadn’t said a word about him, but Kelli knew he’d somehow been there for Heather in Indianapolis. She gave God a curious glance upward, thinking it kind of funny. She and Cyd weren’t the only unlikely ones to befriend Heather. The most sought-after bachelor in the church had done so as well.
The closing prayer barely uttered, Stephanie started chattering. “Okay, so what’s the deal? We’re heading to Cyd and Cedric’s to hear the song?”
Kelli was moving out of the pew. “Yes. I want to tell you all about it at the same time and then let you listen.”
Stephanie gave a half glance behind her. “Are you inviting all of Daughters’ Fellowship? Dana and Phyllis have been praying about your music too.”
“I know,” Kelli said, moving into the aisle. “I thought about that. But to be honest, I’m just not ready to tell anyone outside the family yet about . . . about my past.” She leaned in further. “I did invite Heather to listen. She’s the only one other than you all who knows.”
Stephanie’s eyebrows rose. “Definitely can’t have Dana and Heather at the same gathering, now can we? Woo-boy . . . Shoot, Dana and Cyd together is starting to be a trip. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, I noticed they sat on opposite ends of the pew. They normally sit near one another, don’t they?”
“Girl, side by side most times, since junior high.”
“What are y’all whispering about?” Lindell asked.
Stephanie smiled at him. “Nothing.”
Cyd and Cedric had been talking with another couple, but they walked over just as Dana, Scott, and Phyllis joined the circle. The guys branched off to the side, leaving the women to gab.
“Are we sneaking off to the pancake house again?” Phyllis asked. “I’ve got a taste for some.”
Kelli’s stomach tightened.
“I can’t,” Dana said. “Scott and I said we’d help out in children’s ministry after first service. With summer and families going on vacation, they’ve got a shortage.”
“I might as well see how I can help out too,” Phyllis said. “I guess my stomach can hold off till I get home.”
“Let’s plan a DF dinner for one night this week,” Cyd said. “I can call everyone and arrange it.”
“Sounds fabulous,” Phyllis said.
Stephanie nodded. “Works for me.”
Kelli smiled. “You know it works for me. What else do I have to do?”
“It’s a busy week for us,” Dana said. “Different things going on with the kids. I’ll have to see.”
Cyd looked at her. “I’ll call you, Dana. We’ll work around your schedule.”
Dana half-nodded, then nudged Phyllis. “We’d better get out of here.”
Kelli stared after them, and it struck her that she would’ve been one of them, a mommy in the fellowship. She would be heading over to children’s ministry to help—probably with the first graders, which is what her child would be right now.
Cedric put his arm around Cyd. “Everybody ready? I can’t wait to hear this song.”
“Isn’t that Brian over there, headed out to the lobby?” Stephanie asked.
Kelli looked across the sanctuary. “It is. Surprised he made it to first service.”
Stephanie upbraided Kelli with a look. “Well, why is he all by his lonesome? You need to invite him to come sit with us.”
“Why? We recorded a song. We’re not best buds.”
“You should at least invite him to our listening party,” Cedric said. “Wasn’t the song his idea?”
Kelli walked a little slower as she considered it. It wasn’t that she was opposed to Brian taking part. It was his idea. And she did forgive him, though she hadn’t exactly told him. As she thought about it, she realized it might even help to have him there when her family heard the song, since it made her so emotional. And he could better explain his plans for the album.
But she’d have to make sure they kept their distance. She didn’t want him thinking they were inching back into one another’s lives, not even as friends. She could never turn back down that road. She couldn’t do that to her heart.
BRIAN SAT IN THE OVERSTUFFED CHAIR IN CYD AND Cedric’s living room, overwhelmed by the response to the song he and Kelli had recorded. The women were wiping tears, and Cedric and Lindell were at the least misty-eyed. Brian had played it so much that he could half manage his emotions while listening, but he doubted he’d ever hear it without a deep tugging at his heart.
Cyd clutched a tissue. “God certainly brought beauty from ashes. That song is incredible.”
“As much as I loved your version, Kelli,” Stephanie said, “this is a whole ’nother level. The two of you on the song together, for your baby . . . I don’t even know what to say.” She shook her head. “Well, actually, I do. Thank you, Monica and team, for passing on the song.”
“And, Kelli, your voice.” Heather sat cross-legged on the floor beside Kelli, Reese resting between them. “Why do you minimize your vocal talent? Girl, you’re the bomb.”
Kelli gave a faint smile. “Thanks, Heather.”
Brian nodded. “I’ve told her that a thousand times.”
Cedric looked at Brian. “Gotta be honest, man. I was ready to go off on you when I heard what happened with Kelli. But the apology and now the song?” His eyes were filled with emotion. “Will this be on your upcoming album?”
“Oh, definitely,” Brian said. “It’s the first love letter.”
Kelli looked at him. “The first love letter?”
Brian had planned to talk to Kelli about it in private, but maybe it was just as well discussing it here in the open. He might need her family’s help.
“It came to me this morning,” he said. “I went back down to the studio and listened to the song ten times at least, and finally I could see it—a vision for the entire album.” He paused. “God is finally answering prayers in a big way.”
“Well? What’s the vision?” Kelli asked.
Brian smiled at her, and Kelli lowered her eyes. He knew she was still on guard. He cleared his throat. “Love letters, that’s the concept. I haven’t thought out each one, but there’s the love letter to the baby, and there will be a love letter to the world—you know, like ‘God sent His son to die for you because of His love for you.’ And I’m thinking several love letters to the body of Christ. Could be a love letter to the persecuted, love letter to new believers—”
“You could do a love letter to fellow aliens.”
Brian looked to see if Kelli was joking.
“No, really,” Kelli said. “The song would tell them it’s okay to be different, set apart.”
Brian was smiling again. “You’re hired.”
“As what?”
“My co-collaborator.”
“Uh . . . no.”
“I’m serious, Kelli,” Brian said. “I was already planning to ask you. I’d like you to collaborate with me on the writing of these love letters. And I’d like you to sing the choruses as well.”
“This is just too much.” Stephanie got up and paced the floor. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. I knew God was going to use your music, Kelli.” She stopped to look at Kelli. “I kept saying all things were possible, but I did kinda stop believing after Monica’s rejection. This is so awesome.”
Kelli raised her hand partway. “Before you get too excited . . . I’m not working on any more songs for the album. Not interested in any co-collaboration.”
Brian’s countenance fell.
Stephanie put a hand to her hip, staring at her. “Excuse me, Miss Thing, but did you acknowledge God while I wasn’t looking? Or are you leaning again?”
Kelli pursed her lips.
“Good point, Steph,” Cedric said. “We shouldn’t assume either way. Pray about it, Kel.” He turned to Brian. “How soon do you need to start working on the other songs?”
“Like, last month,” Brian said, “and I wish I were joking. For months, I couldn’t come up with anything that was worth anything. I couldn’t understand why God wasn’t giving me what I needed.”
Heather spoke quietly. “He was waiting for Kelli to come back.”
Everyone in the room seemed to ponder that.
“That’s what I’m starting to see,” Brian said. “Anyway, I got a couple of extensions. So now I’m supposed to turn in the album three weeks from now, at the end of August. Release date is end of October.” He cringed at the tight time frame.
“Come on, circle up.” Stephanie waved everyone forward like little chicks. “We have to put some more prayer on this album”— she eyed Kelli as she extended her arms—“now that we know what God is up to.”
Kelli linked hands with Stephanie. “Think you know.”
“Hmph.”
Brian wanted to take Kelli’s free hand, but he positioned himself between Cedric and Lindell instead, lowering his head.
“Father God,” Lindell started, “we thank and praise You for what You’ve done since last Sunday, when we prayed that You would give Brian direction. We’re praying now, Lord, that You bless the continued work on the album, and specifically, that it would be clear who is to work on it.”
Reese wove between legs, trying to find a suitable spot in the circle.
“And, Lord, just to break it down further,” Stephanie said, “if You want Kelli to collaborate on the writing and also sing on this album, I pray You would give her neither rest nor peace until she agrees.”
Brian peeked to see Kelli’s response. Her head was up, eyes narrowed on her sister-in-law.
Cyd cleared her throat. “Lord, we thank You for Brian’s heart. He didn’t want to throw any ol’ thing together on the album and call it a day. He wanted to hear from You. And we pray believing that this album will be inspired by You and that it will glorify You. We pray it goes far and wide and blesses everyone who listens.”
“Father, I’ve known this young man since he was a boy,” Cedric said, “and I’m in awe of what You’ve done in his life. Keep him humble and connected to You. And I’m praying for my sister—”
Kelli’s head popped up again.
“—that You would help her to put the former things behind her and look for the new thing You might be doing.”
Brian stared at the floor, eyes wide.
“Jesus, thank You that Kelli’s willing to be my friend,” Heather said. “And thank You for her talent. Could You love on her and do big things through her?”
Brian watched Kelli slip an arm around Heather and hug her. The room grew silent. Should he pray? Certainly, music wasn’t the only big thing looming in his world. When the quiet continued, he decided to throw in another request.
“Lord,” he said, “even if the album comes together like I’m seeing it, I’ve still got a huge issue. What do I do about school? Fall semester starts before I know it, and I need to give them an answer. Please show me Your plan. Show me what to do.”
Murmurs of agreement rose from the circle, then it grew quiet again. After several seconds, Brian wondered who would wrap it up.
Suddenly he heard sniffles and looked in Kelli’s direction. Her head sagged, and she seemed to be crying. His brow knit. Wasn’t she fine a minute ago?
Everyone looked at everyone else and waited.
Kelli let go the hands she’d been holding and covered her face, then walked across the room and got a handful of tissues. She blew her nose, turning toward them.
“When the circle got quiet,” she said, “I heard a melody and lyrics.” She paused, wiping a tear from her face. “That hasn’t happened in seven years. I thought God would never give me another song, but it was so clear, like it used to be.” She paused again. “And the words were for a love letter to the suffering.”
Brian looked at her, hope moving to the edge of his heart.
“I’ve got all kinds of hesitations, Brian,” she said, looking back at him. “I need to find a job, and I’ve got to be honest—I don’t really want to work with you. But I guess I can’t ignore what God just gave me.” She looked downward, thinking to herself, and let loose a sigh. “I’ll do it. I’ll collaborate with you. But if at any point it’s not working out, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to stop.”
Brian took a couple steps toward her. “I understand, Kel. It can’t be easy to . . . Well, just, thank you.”
Kelli nodded, and it struck Brian that he didn’t know what to feel. He should be happy she agreed, happy he could pursue the direction he was finally getting. But Kelli had said in front of everybody she didn’t want to work with him. What if she bailed after the first session? What if they found they simply couldn’t get along?
He pushed back on the hope skirting his heart. For now, it was nothing but tentative.