Down from the Cross (13 page)

Keene waited until the door closed behind her then rammed a fist into the palm of his other hand.
You bonehead! What did you think you were doing? You just told that woman you thought you could fall in love with her! Whatever possessed you to do such a stupid thing? Jane is not like the other women you have known. Any other woman would have been bowing at your feet if you had mentioned the “L” word to them. Now you have probably scared her off.

After plopping himself down in her desk chair, he tilted it back and linked his fingers behind his head.
What is the matter with me? The
love
word? Since I met Jane, I have even considered the “M” word!

The phone rang, and he gazed at it for a long time before finally picking up the receiver.

“Hey, buddy, what do you mean, hanging up on me?” the voice asked.

Keene sat up straight, angrily anchoring his elbows on the desktop. “Look, Brian, get this straight! I am only going to tell you one more time. I
am
going to sing in that church’s Easter program, and nothing you or the union can say or do is going to stop me.”

“But you know the rules. I hope you’ve made that church aware of what it’s going to cost them to hire you.”

Keene narrowed his eyes, wishing Brian were there so the man could see the dead seriousness on his face. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got that covered. They already know the amount, and they’ve agreed to pay it.”

“Hey, you’re smarter than I thought you were.”

“But I also told them if the offerings they take every night don’t measure up to the agreed-upon amount—”

“Not measure up? What about my—”

“Cool it, Brian. Let me finish. I told them they could go ahead and write out a check for the full amount and I would, in turn, make out a check to them for the difference and give it back to them, and they could consider it my gift to the church.”

Brian laughed into the phone. “Wahoo! Good thinking, Keene. They get their little Easter pageant, I get my full commission, and you get a nice write-off! Good job, old buddy.”

“Yeah, that should make everybody happy, and my tax man will love the idea.”

“But what’s with you, man? You don’t go to church. I’ve heard you tell people you don’t even believe in God. Why this sudden change and devotion to some church?”

Jane’s adorable image immediately popped into Keene’s mind. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

The next morning at exactly 8:45, the BMW moved into a parking space in the Randlewood Church parking lot.

Jane was standing by the piano going over one of her solos when Keene entered the sanctuary. She stopped cold when she saw him, not yet feeling comfortable about singing in front of him. Not only that, her head was still spinning, almost as much as her heart, from the kisses in the parking lot the night before.

“Places, everyone.” Ben tapped his pen against the microphone. “Let’s get started.” He turned to Keene, who was standing in the middle of the platform as if unsure where he should sit. “For now, why don’t you have a seat there at the end of the fourth row, in the baritone section?”

Keene nodded and moved into the chair, shaking hands with those seated around him and giving them a friendly smile.

“Let’s start on page thirty-nine,” Ben told them, flipping the pages in his book. He motioned to Jane. “Your first solo is on the next page, Jane. Why don’t you come on up to the microphone so you’ll be ready?”

She cast a quick glance Keene’s way as she moved into the aisle. Although she was still nervous about singing in front of him, her thoughts were on the kisses they’d shared, and her knees began to wobble. Finally, she moved into position, and the music started. She tried to concentrate, to become Mary as Ben had suggested, but with Keene so near she found it hard to do.
Lord, please settle my mind. I want to sing for You. Keep my mind focused on You alone, and may the words Keene hears as we sing
Down from the Cross
cause him to be aware of his sins and make him realize his need for You in his life.

A calmness washed over her as she gazed at the words in the book in front of her, and suddenly she was Mary. The emotions Mary must have felt became her emotions. All thoughts of Keene disappeared, and the only face before her became the face of Jesus. When it came her time to sing, she opened her mouth and sang for her Lord.

Keene stared at her, amazed at the quality of her lovely alto voice and the way in which she sang. Each note was crystal clear, her phrasing perfect. He listened carefully, knowing each word was coming from her heart. How many times had he tried to do the same thing? Sing an opera or a concert from the depths of his heart? And failed? Oh, perhaps the audience had not known it, but he had. It had been hard to muster up feelings for some of the roles he had sung. Meaningless stories and plots. Some of them silly and amazingly dull. Yet he had given them his all, but it had been with great effort. With Jane, there seemed to be no effort at all. Her singing came out that way because her emotions were sincere, pure, and he envied her. She was singing to God. The God she knew—and he didn’t.

At noon, the entire group enjoyed the light lunch the women had provided, took a fifteen-minute break, and then went back to work. By four o’clock, they reached the place in the book that called for Keene’s first solo.

“We’ll skip this part until later,” Ben said, motioning toward Keene.

Keene rose quickly. “I’m ready. There’s no need to wait.”

Ben motioned toward the microphone. “Great. Let’s do it.”

The pianist began, the choir did a short lead-in, and everyone waited breathlessly to hear the magnificent voice of Keene Moray.

Keene took a deep breath and, with a smile he couldn’t contain, began to sing in a high-pitched, falsetto soprano voice.

Every choir member’s eyes bugged out, and they stopped singing and stared at him. Even the pianist stopped playing. Other than Keene’s ridiculously funny voice still singing, the sanctuary was engulfed in silence.

When it became apparent he could stand it no longer, he gave a booming laugh that echoed throughout the big room. “It’s a joke, folks!” he said, a giant grin plastered across his face. “I wanted to break some of the tenseness I felt. Look”— he held out his arm and pinched it—“I’m human. Please don’t treat me like some freak. I am one of you now. We’re in this together.”

Somewhere in the top row, someone began to applaud, and soon the entire choir broke out with laughter and applause.

“He’s really funny!” Karen said to Jane. “You must have a blast working for him.”

Jane gazed at Keene, her heart filled with admiration and pangs of love. “Yeah, a blast,” she said, grinning, once again remembering how wonderful it felt to be held in his arms. “You can’t imagine what a blast.”

Ben gave the pianist her cue to start again, and this time the magnificent voice of Keene Moray sang the words with feeling and emotion. By the time he finished his part, tears flowed from the eyes of almost everyone in the choir loft, including Ben Kennard.

Karen dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “How can he sing those words that way, with so much feeling—words right from the scripture—and not believe in God?”

“That’s what I want to know.”
Speak to his heart, God. As he memorizes each song, may his mind be filled with Your Word. I pray, through hearing and singing this music, Keene will turn to You. And, Lord Jesus, keep my witness pure. You know the temptations that face me every day I work with him. I–I love this man.

“Got any plans for this evening?” Keene asked Jane as they walked to their cars. “I’d like to take you to dinner.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I’d love to go to dinner with you—on one condition.”

He tilted his head with a slight frown. “Oh, and what might that be?”

“That you’ll go to church with me in the morning.”

He tapped his finger on his lips thoughtfully. “I was planning to spend all day working on
Down from the Cross.”

“We can go to the early service at 8:30.”

He locked his arm in hers. “You drive a hard bargain.”

She smiled up at him, trying desperately to keep from looking at his lips. “Take it or leave it.”

He pulled her toward her car. “I’ll take it. Wear something nice. I am taking you to Capriccio’s on Pine Street. The food is exceptional, the service is unparalleled, and the atmosphere is very romantic. You will go crazy over their seafood. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

She gave him a coy smile. “Seven will be fine. That way you can get a good night’s sleep and make it to the early service.”

Keene had not prepared himself for the lovely creature who greeted him at the door when he arrived at seven. Wearing a simple black sleeveless dress, a string of pearls about her slender neck, and a pair of high-heeled black strappy sandals that made her legs look fantastic, the woman standing before him, with her shoulder-length dark hair swept up into an elegant French roll, bore very little resemblance to the woman he’d left only a few hours ago. That woman had been wearing a ponytail, jeans, and a sweatshirt. This woman was a real knockout, and she smelled nice, too.

“I hope I look all right.” She did a graceful pirouette.

Words failed him. He responded with a low, drawn-out whistle. “All right? You’re gorgeous!”

“I–I could change. I have a blue suit—”

He latched on to her arm. “No! You’re perfect the way you are. I just wish I’d brought a can of mace.”

“Mace? Why would you need that?”

He tugged her close to him, wrapped his arm about her waist, and whispered in a low, husky voice, “To keep all the men at the restaurant away from you.”

Her nervous laugh made him smile. Actually, just being with her made him smile. Until he came to Providence, he had smiled very little. Or at least honest smiles. He had put on more false, on-demand smiles than he cared to remember. It was part of his job. But an honest, all-out smile from his heart? There had not been many. Until Jane came into his life and into his heart.

When they arrived, the maître d’ took them to their table, calling Keene by name. Jane, who said she rarely had seafood, asked Keene to order for her, then oohed and aahed over the lobster as she dipped each bite into the drawn butter. They laughed their way through a pleasant meal, and to Keene’s mind the evening ended all too soon. As they walked through the dingy, dimly lit hall with its torn carpet and burned-out lightbulbs toward the apartment she shared with her ailing mother, Keene had a sudden urge to take her away from all of this. Show her the world he lived in. Give her the fine things of life she had apparently never had. But why? She deserved so much more, yet he could not remember a single time since he had met her that she complained about her living conditions. How different she was from the many other women he knew. Each day, his appreciation for Jane and her values increased, and he found her more alluring than ever.

“I will see you at church in the morning, won’t I?” she asked him while they lingered in the hallway.

“You’ll see me before that. I’ll pick you up at eight. You surely don’t expect me to attend my first church service by myself, do you?” He slipped his arm around her waist and hugged her to him as emotions he had never experienced before took hold of him.

She smiled up at him. “Then you’d better make that 7:30 if you want to go with me. I have to be there early. The choir always goes over its special a time or two before we go into the service.”

He frowned. “I forgot about you singing in the choir. Does that mean I’ll have to sit by myself?”

She looped her arms about his neck and gave him a light-hearted smile. “Just during the first part. After the offertory, we go sit with the congregation. I usually sit on the front pew. Since I sing in the choir, I’ll have to stay until nearly noon. I’m sure you won’t want to sit through all three services. I can catch a ride home with Karen.”

“Front pew it is. I’ll save you a seat.” He gazed into her eyes, amazed at her simple beauty. There was no pretense in Jane’s life. No facade. No cover-up. She was who she was, and he loved that about her. With Jane, he could relax—be himself. Be the real Keene Moray, not Keene Moray the performer, and it felt good.