Whispered Southern Secrets (Magnolia Grove #11)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

John David

The book of Corinthians tells us that God will provide us a way out of temptation, and He will not allow us to be tempted beyond what we can handle. Well it was close yesterday. It. Was. Close. There’s also a part in there about running from anything or anyone that stimulates lusts.

Speaking of running. Honey ran away from Magnolia Grove when she decided to get married. Then she came running back after her divorce. A lot of running. I don’t know the guy she married or why they separated. I want to know, but I won’t engage in gossip; I want her to be the one to tell me. She never speaks about her ex-husband. All night the questions kept going through my mind. Never any answers. Only more questions.

By the time my alarm goes off, I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep hardly any. The Bible tells us to have patience, not to worry, to be still and know Him. And I’m trying to do that. A part of me wonders if I shouldn’t be still and wait because here she is. I’m building bridges with the people, I want to build a bridge that closes the gap between me and Honey. I’m trying to lay the groundwork for a future in Magnolia Grove, and I see her. I’m in love with a woman I barely know yet I’ve obsessed over for years. It’s abundantly clear to me that’s insane. The responsible thing to do would to be to get to know her before bringing up marriage on the first date. But again, it’s been three years of me begging to have this woman in my life. Maybe the responsible thing to do is not waste precious time and let her know upfront that I intend to marry her so I never have to go another three years without her. For the first time in my life, the pieces are finally fitting. Everything is falling into place. The only missing piece is Harper “Honey” Beaumont. As crazy as it sounds, I know she’s the one for me. She’s it. She’s the one. I can easily see a future for us here in Magnolia Grove.

Honey Beaumont is full of good humor and kindness. She gives everyone she meets a friendly smile, even the ones who judge her. Her tough girl act is adorable. She’s strong, but there’s not a mean streak in her gorgeous body. I admire how she manages to make every moment filled with happiness. And she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. She’s naturally fun. I love her heart. I want to have a piece of it.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I barely register the doorbell ringing. I throw my legs over the bed and hurry to get up and get dressed. “Coming,” I call out. When I arrive to the door I see that it’s James.

“James,” I greet as hold the door open. “Man, I apologize. I’m running behind.”

“You look terrible.”

“Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it.”

“Isn’t lying a sin? Shouldn’t lie to a holy man.”

I chuckle. “I wouldn’t call me holy. I’m simply a man of God. One of His people, the same as you.”

“Aren’t you like the next step to the big man?” James asks as I guide him to the kitchen table. Mama left some fresh biscuits covered for me so I place the still warm plate in front of him. I grab some jam and butter and I think how to phrase my answer.

“There’s been several analogies for preachers, priests, ministers, all head of church figures. Mostly they’re compared to being shepherds with their flock of sheep. I’m not a huge fan of comparing myself to a shepherd because Jesus was also referred to as a shepherd. I think He is still a shepherd to all of us. Jesus has also been described as the bridge of salvation. He is the one who brings us to God. So my dad loves to say ‘build bridges.’ And I love that. I’d like to think by building a relationship with people and connecting with them, that’ll be also be a bridge that leads them to the ultimate bridge, the bridge to salvation. They’ll form their own relationship with Jesus.”

James nods his head in thought. He cuts open his biscuit and begins lathering it in jam. Finally he says, “So you engineer the process of people getting where they need to go. You’re not a shepherd, but an engineer.”

I blink at him in surprise. “Yeah,” I say slowly. “That’s a great way to look at it. Jesus was also known as a carpenter.”

With a mouth full of biscuit, James grumbles. “He had a lot of job titles. King. Carpenter. Shepherd.”

This kid seems pretty wise so I decide to throw one of the questions that plagued me last night. “Would it sound crazy to marry someone you didn’t know?”

“Only if you live in this century.”

“Why this century? It used to be considered romantic. Love at first sight.”

James side-eyes me as he takes a drink. Then he slowly places his glass down and gives me a pointed look. “Yeah, when the life expectancy was thirty. You’d be on your last leg. Of course you’d hurry up and marry the first available and healthy person you saw.”

“But why wait?”

“To get to know them and make sure they’re not psycho.”

I release a huff and take a biscuit. I shove it in my mouth and almost choke when he speaks. “Wait a minute. This is about Miss Honey.” When I don’t answer but just chew and stare at him, he says, “Oh then yeah. You should definitely hurry up and get her to marry you. She can do better, so lock her down before she realizes it.”

“Finish your food so we can get to work.”

He shrugs. “Truth hurts, Preacher Man.”

James and I are working on his community service hours today. We’re going around to people who aren’t able to do yard work themselves. Turns out James is a quick learner and really good at mowing, weeding eating, mulch, trimming, and repairing fences.

After a long day of hard work I take James to River’s End. James tells me that he has an aunt who has arranged for him to move in with her and is getting full custody. It’s great news and I’ll do anything I can do to help, but a part of me is sad.

“I’m going to miss you. A selfish part of me wants to keep you here.”

James completely stops eating. A look of surprise crosses his features. “You mean that?”

“Of course.”

He sucks his lips in and stares down at his plate. “Thank you.”

Sensing that James needs a moment, I walk over to the bar to give them a stack of cards with my name and number. I want to keep reminding them that if they see anyone who needs a ride home that I’m available. And if I’m not, I’ll help find them one. When I return to my seat, James studies me.

“Why is it important to you to give drunk people rides home? Shouldn’t that be their responsibility? Plus don’t church folks frown upon drinking? I guess it could be a good time to preach while proving your point about alcohol. But they might not remember it in the morning.”

I see he’s back to himself.

“There’s a lot to unpack there. One not all Christians agree it’s a sin to drink. Many churches use wine in communion, and there are some who don’t view drinking in moderation—moderation the key word—as a sin but still don’t use it in communion.”

James holds his Coke up and says, “Yeah because ole’ homeboy turned the water into wine.”

“He did. He provided that wine at a wedding.”

“The OG of BYOB. Or I guess he was BYOW.”

I’m not even sure how to address that. Moving forward. “As I was saying, this is up for dispute. When someone says they’re a Christian you can’t put them in a box. There’s a vast number of different sub denominations. The religion of Christianity is a wide umbrella. Orthodox and Protestants. It keeps breaking down to little groups.”

“Because nobody can agree if Jesus drank wine? But it says it in the Bible.”

“If only it were that simple.” I smile. I love that he’s asking questions. “Some argue the wine was different then.”

“Better? Stronger? I bet he did have the good stuff.”

“They say nobody reads the same book. I don’t even read the Bible the same way each time. Depends on what I’m going through. I’ll read same verse but then interpret it a different way. Or I’ll hear how someone else reads it. Then I might go with their point of view or disagree.”

James’s nod is full of enthusiasm. “Those interpretations are a dangerous game. One time my uncle and this woman got in a huge fight over some text messages. He said she was getting an attitude but she said she was happy. He told her that exclamations are used for yelling.”

“Perfect example. That’s why, in my opinion, the only requirement for being a good Christian is believing in Christ. It’s the only thing all Christians agree on. I believe He did want us to love everyone and take care of people. To go back to your other question, I give rides because that’s something easy I can do to ensure God’s people are safe and taken care of. If I can prevent one drunken car accident, why wouldn’t I? I don’t give them any sermons on fire and brimstone, because the Lord knows they’re drinking. I’ll do my part in helping, and I’ll let Jesus do His part on forgiveness.”

James smiles and there’s that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “But it sounds like Jesus liked to party.”

“He very well may have. One church might tell you that’s blasphemous but another might agree wholeheartedly.”

“You’re pretty cool, Preacher Man.”

“Right back atcha.”

It’s peaceful outside so I decide to go for a walk. I take my time enjoying the cool weather and the solitude. There’s a few people sitting out on their porches. Some kids are laughing as they climb a giant tree. Magnolia Grove doesn’t seem like the kind of place where anyone would be left out or neglected. James had seemed genuinely shocked and touched by the fact I’d miss him and wanted him to stay. It bothered me. Nobody should ever feel that way, especially a fifteen-year-old kid. Small towns are good about taking care of their own, but it’s possibly someone could slip through the cracks. I’m more positive than before that I’m exactly where I need to be. It’s still disheartening. I only hope that by the time James leaves, maybe I’ve made somewhat of a positive impact on him.

It's not like I’ll never see him again…right? I stop in my tracks. I’ll be sure to get his new address. Even though his community service has been completed, and he is moving, there’s no reason I can’t keep in touch. I set a reminder in my phone to get a care package together for him. He’ll be starting a new school, new friends, and in a way it’s a fresh start. Might be exactly what he needs. Even if it means I’ll miss him.

A familiar little beagle pup comes charging toward me. “Well hey there, Johnny Cash.” I reach down and pick him up. He licks my cheek. “My first name is John too. Did you know that?” The puppy squirms and licks me across my face. I look over his soft little head and make eye contact with Honey. “What’s that look for?”

“At least someone is getting some action.” She crosses her arms. “I never imagined I’d be jealous of a dog.”

I lower my voice and in a playful tone say, “Because he’s getting all the lovins’?”

“Because it’s acceptable when he barks at people, but when I do it I’m rude.”

My lips twitch at her dry tone. I try to focus on the squirming puppy and not the way her eyes are burning on me. There’s a light draft blowing on the exposed skin where my shirt is riding up. Her eyes are zeroing in on the small sliver of skin. A part of me is itching to tease her and ask if she’s enjoying the sneak peek.

“Nice to know that doing the Lord’s work is keeping him in shape,” I hear her mumble under her breath.

“What’s wrong?” I furrow my brows in mock concern at her. I make a show of looking over my shoulder and then back to her.

Her innocent tone is adorable. “What are you talking about?”

“Your eyes are kind of bugged out. I was worried you saw something.”

Oh, she saw something. I’m simply curious if she’ll admit that seeing my exposed abs has her eyes about to pop out of her head like a cartoon character. Should I tell her I feel objectified?

“You know what,” she tries to change the subject, “Cash and I were about to go for a walk. Looks like that’s what you’re up to. Mind if we join you?”

As we walk along the quiet street I tell her all about James. It’s nice to be able to unload all of this with another person so freely. Share my concerns, dreams, and fears.

“What if I get attached to every kid that comes through?” I ask her.

“You probably will. Which is what’s going to make you amazing at this job. You care J.D.”

Cash pulls against his leash, then sits to bite it, gets tangled, then runs forward, trips over it, pulls, and repeats. Eventually Honey picks him up and carries him the rest of the walk. She smiles over at me, and I about trip over my own feet. I was worse than the puppy. Any man with a pulse would be whenever Honey tossed one of her carefree smiles your way. My phone rings and a part of me wants to ignore it. However, between the juvenile office and church, it could be important. Both jobs require me to always be available. Giving Honey an apologetic look, I pull my phone out and swipe the screen.