“I feel like this is it,” she said, taking a deep breath, proud of what they had accomplished. “Send me the video, and I’ll add it to the website.” She stood to leave and grabbed the half-full pie tin. “You don’t want this, right?” Beau shook his head.
As she made her way back to her office down the hall, she felt inspired. Gavin’s sermons always had a way of making her feel like she had just come from counseling. And given how quickly their congregation was growing, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Gavin’s dad had started the church in the nineties and had gathered about three hundred loyal followers from the surrounding area, but when Gavin joined him two years ago and began preaching, they soon ran out of pews for congregants.
One newspaper called him a visionary. People around town buzzed about his fresh ideas and commanding stage presence. His dad even admitted Gavin was better than him, stepping aside to allow his son to take the spotlight. This was no surprise to Claire—from the moment they’d met, she’d been drawn in by his devotion to God and ability to inspire others.
The first time she saw him, he had been onstage leading Youth Worship Night, a monthly Friday gathering for the fifteen to twenty-one crowd. His orange shirt read JESUS, but it was written in the Reese’s peanut butter cup logo. She thought it was genius. Gavin strummed the guitar, a couple of leather bracelets wrapped around his wrist, and sung about faith. His deep soulful voice rocked her to her core. They locked eyes during “God Gave Me You.” He smiled at her. She blushed and continued swaying to the music, but she was pretty sure her moves had become robotic by that point.
“What’s your name?” were the first words he ever said to her.
Her witty response? “Claire.”
It was still her favorite conversation to this day.
Her phone buzzed on her desk, bringing her back to reality.
From Madison:
I’m outside. Come take a break with me?
Her cousin never stopped by the church except on Sundays, which meant she must have needed something . . . probably money. She knew that Madison’s parents were struggling right now. “Charity begins at home,” Claire recited to herself, grabbing her wallet and walking outside.
“Hey!” Madison sat on the edge of a large concrete flower pot at the entrance, fiddling with her packet of cigarettes.
“Hey, Mads. What brings you around?” Claire sat down with her.
Madison scowled. “I’m supposed to clean a house down the street in a half hour.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re working? I’m so proud of you.” Claire put her hand on her cousin’s shoulder.
Madison rolled her eyes. “Save your excitement. I’m still holding out for the role of professional groupie. I told Cash my starting salary needs to be a hundred thousand dollars.”
Claire chuckled, though she wasn’t entirely convinced it was a joke. “So then you just came by to say hi? That’s so sweet.”
“Well, actually . . .” Madison shuffled her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Claire decided that she wouldn’t make a big deal about the money when she asked. The poor girl looked so distraught, and she was family, after all.
Madison lowered her eyes. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna say it, okay?”
Claire nodded. Here it comes . . .
“So, last night I was going past The Saddle . . .” Madison paused, lighting a cigarette, and Claire jiggled her foot impatiently. Why was Madison telling her about a run-down strip club thirty minutes outside of town? “And, well, I saw Gavin’s truck parked outside of it.” Madison brought her cigarette back up to her lips and inhaled.
“Wait . . . what?” Claire shook her head, laughing. “Oh, bless your heart. He was at Bible study last night. Could you even imagine Gavin at The Saddle?” She patted her cousin on the shoulder. She was clearly mistaken.
Madison frowned. “I swear, Claire. Me and Cash were on our way back from New Iberia—”
“Wait—you and Cash?” Claire’s eyes narrowed. She knew what that meant. “Madison, had y’all been drinking when you saw this?”
“Well . . .” Madison dragged her foot back and forth across the pavement guiltily. “I wasn’t completely sober.”
Claire shook her head. “Did you even check to see whether it had the Ron Paul bumper sticker on the back?” She took a deep, frustrated breath. “Madison, I swear . . .”
“Look, I saw what I saw.” Madison tapped the ashes from her cigarette to the ground. “Maybe you’re in denial.”
“This is ridiculous.” Claire couldn’t help her voice becoming shrill. A knot was forming in her stomach. “You come to my job and tell me my husband might be going to a strip club behind my back, and then you insult me?”
“I was only trying to help.” Madison crushed her cigarette into the concrete, putting it out. “You think it was easy for me to come here and tell you this? You think I wanted to deliver this news? God, Claire! I’ve been up all night debating what to do.”
“Next time, before you accuse my husband of adultery, maybe make sure it’s true.” Claire stood up from the planter and straightened out her skirt, trying to calm down her rage. It was just like Madison to stir up trouble for no good reason.
“I didn’t accuse him of anything. I just said he was there. That’s for you to deal with however you want.” Madison stood up, too, patting the butt of her jeans for dirt.
“I have to go back to work.” Claire moved for the door, leaving her cousin behind without a second glance.
Back at her desk, her stomach began turning. She convinced herself it was the praline pie—she knew she shouldn’t have eaten all of those slices. But maybe . . . no . . . it couldn’t be? she conversed with herself internally. Maybe I’ll just go talk to Gavin—prove that there’s nothing to worry about. After a few minutes of cooling down at her desk, she knocked on his open office door.
He looked up from his computer. “Hey, hon, what’s up?”
“Nothing, just wanted to come say hi.” She plopped down in the chair in front of his desk. “How’s your day goin’?”
“It’s fine,” he said, looking back at the screen.
“That’s good,” she said, taking a brief pause. She wondered if she should just let it go. It was all a big misunderstanding anyway, she was sure about that. But there was still a gnawing at her stomach that needed to be put to rest. “Oh, I meant to ask, how was Bible study last night? Who ended up going?” She crossed her leg and leaned in toward the desk.
Gavin looked back at her. “It was good—a small group.”
“Were Tyler and Blake there?” She cocked her head to the side. He shook his. “Aren’t they always at those things?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Not this one.” He paused. “Sorry, babe, I have to get back to work. We’ll talk later tonight?”
Claire stood up. “Ah, okay.” She walked toward the door and looked back at him, typing furiously on his keyboard now. “I love you.”