Cherished (6 page)

“You should come,” Cedric said. “You must be about at the top of our target age group. We're looking for ways to connect with these guys. If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them.”

“All right,” Brian said. “I'll check it out.”

“I'd better get back,” Cedric said, taking a step toward the booth, “but it was good to see you, Brian. I'm sure I'll see you around.”

“Cedric,” Brian said, his heart in his throat, “can I ask the two of you a quick question first?”

“Sure.”

“I've tried to get in touch with Kelli a couple of times over the years. Could you give me her number, maybe even her e-mail?” He was suddenly nervous, imagining their response.
After the way you hurt our sister, you must be crazy
.

Lindell had a funny look on his face. “Dude, you just missed her.”

Brian stared.

“She's here now,” Cedric added. “Just moved back. She's staying with my wife and me, and she came to church with us this morning.”

Brian was stunned. Didn't know what to say or think. He was almost glad he missed her. Whenever he imagined getting in touch, it was by phone or e-mail. Could he bear seeing her face-to-face?

He searched for his next words. “Wow . . . could you give me her cell number or maybe your landline . . . if you have one.”

“How about this?” Cedric said. He pulled his phone from his belt clip. “Why don't you give me your number, and I'll pass it to her.” He started typing Brian's name into his contacts.

“Sounds good.” What else could he say?

Brian's heart dragged all the way to his car. So close . . . and yet so far. Kelli would never call him. And once she found out he was at Living Word, she probably wouldn't return.

“E
MERGENCY SESSION OF
D
AUGHTERS
' F
ELLOWSHIP IS
now called to order.” Stephanie tapped the distressed oak table lightly with the butt of a butter knife.

A couple of butterflies twirled in Kelli's stomach. Her first DF meeting, and it was an “emergency session”—on her behalf.

“Cyd, can you pray?” Stephanie asked.

Cyd nodded and scooted her chair in. They were seated in the round, so she grabbed the hands closest to hers—Kelli's and Dana's—and the others followed suit. “Lord, I don't even know what this is about,” she said, lifting her voice a hair above the chatter, “but You know. I pray You will lead our discussion and accomplish Your purposes. As always, we want nothing but Your will, in Jesus' name.”

“Okay,” Stephanie said, jumping right in, “I wanted us to get together because—wait.” She whipped her head around as their server passed. “Ma'am, excuse me,” she called, “we really need to order.”

“Be right there,” the woman said, hustling past. She'd told them that twice already.

Stephanie looked at her watch, then at Dana and Phyllis, the moms in their fellowship. “You guys need to be back at church in less than an hour.”

“We should be fine,” Phyllis said. She touched Dana's arm, a hint of intrigue in her eyes. “Feels like we're on a covert mission or something, doesn't it? Sneaking out of church and then sneaking back by 1300 hours in time to scoop up the kids.”

“We're not
sneaking
,” Dana said, scanning her menu.

“I know, but we're usually doing something at church while we wait for kids' church to let out.” She giggled. “It's kind of fun. I feel like a renegade.”

Stephanie gave her a look. “You don't get out much, do you?”

Phyllis returned the look. “Honey, hit me back four kids later and tell me if you're getting out much.”

Cyd rapped her own knife lightly on the table. “Calling to order again. Can we get to the emergency? I'm dying to hear.”

Stephanie leaned in. “Okay, here's the deal. At church—”

“Ladies, ready to order?”

“Aww,” they all groaned, laughing.

The server threw up a hand, laughing with them. “I can come back later.”

“No!” they chorused and laughed again.

She flipped her pen from behind her ear and jotted down their orders—blueberry, buttermilk, and buckwheat. When they were done and the server had gone, Stephanie hunkered back down.

“At church,” she said, remembering exactly where she left off, “when they mentioned that Logan would be at the songwriters' conference next weekend, it hit me. Kelli needs to be there.”

“I had a feeling that's where you were going,” Kelli said. “But I have no idea why.”

“Because you're a songwriter.”

“I wrote a few songs years ago. That doesn't make me a songwriter.”

“Do we have to go through this again?” Stephanie rolled her eyes away from Kelli. “Y'all, we were helping Kelli pack, and she found an old notepad at the bottom of a drawer with songs in it she'd written. I got her to sing some in the car on the way up here— had to twist her arm and promise my firstborn—and I couldn't believe how good they were.”

“They're awesome,” Cyd said. “I could feel those lyrics.”

“I've only heard one,” Phyllis said, “that wedding song. And that's all I needed to hear to know you've got something special. It gave me goose bumps.”

“Thanks, you guys, but as I said, it's not that big a deal. Music was just . . . a hobby of mine for a while.”

“But, Kelli,” Dana said, “you obviously had a passion for it at one point, right?”

Kelli gave a reluctant nod. There was a time when she and that notepad were inseparable. She remembered Brian twisting her arm one day too, to get her to share her songs. Kelli planted herself back in the present.

“And you obviously have talent,” Dana was saying. “It's not just your family that likes it; the whole church gave you a standing ovation.” She sipped her coffee. “So, I'm curious. You never dreamed of doing anything with it?”

“That's exactly what I asked her,” Stephanie said.

“Long time ago.”

“What happened?” Phyllis asked.

Kelli shrugged. “Lots of things.”

The table was quiet, just as the car had grown quiet when they reached a similar point. Kelli had been able to change the subject then, but given that this entire meeting was called on her behalf, she knew it wouldn't work this time.

“So, okay,” Dana said, raking her hand through her auburn hair as if she were getting down to business, “you had a passion and a dream. Some things happened. But it doesn't change the fact that God's gifted you.” She paused while a passing server refilled her coffee cup. “What if He wants to use it? What if your songs are meant to be heard?”

“There are a gazillion songwriters out there who want their songs to be heard, people much more talented than I am. And maybe one out of the gazillion gets a break.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't matter,” Cyd said.

Kelli frowned. “Why not?”

“If God wants to use your music, He'll use your music. He can show Himself strong by making you the one out of the gazillion.”

What would it be like to have that kind of faith?
Kelli stuck with reality. “Well, anyway,” she said, “God's not interested in using my music.”

“Why would you say that?” several voices blurted at once.

Kelli didn't have an easy answer. No way was she touching the truth. She stared at the table.

Cyd leaned forward. “Kelli, are you saying this because you've prayed and you just feel like God is leading you a different way? Because I could totally understand that.”

“Don't have to pray about it, I just know. God's not looking to use me like that.”

The women looked at one another with raised brows.

“Kelli, this doesn't sound right to me,” Cyd said. “Is it because of something from the past? And now you think God can't use you? Because that's exactly what Scott went through, and you see what he's doing now.”

“That's true,” Dana said. “To be honest, I didn't think God could use him again either after what he did. An affair is so scandalous. I'm flat-out amazed by God's grace and mercy, maybe more than Scott.”

Kelli reflected on that. Scott's story had really touched her. “I hope it's okay to ask, but what happened to the other woman? I'm assuming she was sorry. Do you know if God is using her now too?”

“Heather?” Dana rolled her eyes. “She wasn't sorry about anything. She tried to get Scott
back
in bed after they were caught.”

“Um, before Dana gets worked up,” Phyllis said, “I think we'll do a really fast detour and get back on topic. So . . . Kelli . . . the point was that there might be some parallels between your situation and Scott's, as far as his thinking God couldn't use him.”

“I actually do see a parallel.” She wasn't sure how much to say. “I did some things I regretted too, the summer before I went away to college, and I was so ashamed I basically distanced myself from God.” She looked into their faces. “Today was the first time I'd been to church in years.”

Surprise registered on their faces. “I didn't know,” Cyd said.

Kelli continued. “I wasn't sure what to expect. I felt like it would take awhile to work my way back into God's good graces, but it was like”—she flung wide her arms—“He just embraced me.” She shook her head. “And then listening to Cedric, Scott, and Pastor Lyles . . . It's hard to believe, but I guess it's true. For whatever reason, God uses people who don't have it all together.” She felt emotion welling. “So I'm not saying He won't ever use me. But in the area of music? No.”

“Okay, ladies, here we go,” the server said, helped by another who dished out half the plates. Kelli stared down at her pancakes, remembering the joy she'd once found in songwriting. She heard Phyllis praying over the meal and something about clarity and wisdom regarding Kelli's situation.

“Well, then,” Stephanie said, pouring syrup over her pancakes, “seems to me this emergency session is right on time. You needed some intervention so you could stop leaning.”

“Leaning?”

“Stephanie recognizes the signs well,” Cyd said, “because she's our biggest leaner.”

“Hey!”

Cyd cut into her stack. “It's from Proverbs 3,” she said. “We made it a DF check. If one of us is trying to figure out what to do, we ask, ‘Are you leaning on your own understanding, or are you trusting God and acknowledging Him?' If it's the latter, the psalmist says God will make your paths straight.”

Kelli set her fork down. “I've never thought about it that way.”

Stephanie pointed her fork at Kelli. “There you go. DF to the rescue. I say we acknowledge God by asking right here and now—
just to be sure
—if He has plans for your music.” She lifted a forkful of pancakes. “And I don't think this conference is a coincidence. Might be a quick way to see how He directs your path.”

“Why do you say that, Steph?” Phyllis took a bite of sausage.

“Registration closed months ago, remember? God would have to open a door just to get Kelli in. And if she gets in, she's got to deal with
real
feedback on her music, from industry people.” She turned to Kelli. “If they're not feeling your music—hey, you won't hear another peep from me about it. We'll just take it that the door is closed, like you said.”

Kelli's insides were getting jumpy. “Where's the conference being held?”

“It's in Indianapolis this year.” Stephanie smiled. “After driving from Austin, a trip to Indy would be a piece of cake.”

“Kelli,” Cyd said, “we don't want to push you into doing anything you don't want to do. I think we're just sensing that deep down, the dream is still there. And you've stuffed it for reasons that might not even be valid. I think it's a great idea to pray and be sure . . . if you're willing.”

Kelli could feel the stirring. There was no doubt—the dream was still there. But if she allowed herself to pursue it, only to find a closed door, the disappointment would be unbearable. If only it didn't hurt so much when dreams turned to dust.

five

H
EATHER
A
NDERSON, UNDETERRED BY HER FOUR-INCH
heels, wheeled her luggage across the main lobby of the Indianapolis Hilton. Her insides were a jangle of nervous anticipation. She couldn't believe she was here, couldn't believe she was about to see Ace Vincent again. He was all she could think about for the past month, ever since they'd met at The Razz, a hole-in-the-wall club in St. Louis's Loop. She just knew it was fate, his showing up to play for fun with friends in a local band, her happening by the same night. She might've been the only one who knew who he was— drummer and songwriter for No Return, a Dove Award-winning Christian rock band. The intimate venue allowed her access to him after the set, and they talked most of the night. Since then, they'd texted regularly and talked by phone a couple of times, the latest three days ago when Ace invited her here.