Hope Springs (24 page)

Libby heard a knock on Grandma Geri's front door and jerked up, realizing she'd fallen asleep on the sofa. She checked her watch.
Nine thirty? Ugh
. She'd driven to Hope Springs late Wednesday afternoon to spend some time with her cousins and Grandma Geri since her weekends were busy. But she'd planned to be out of there by now.

She got up to gather her things and say a quick good-bye—and heard the knock again.

“Hey, Libby, can you get that?” Stephanie called. “I'm in here washing dishes.”

Libby opened the door and cocked her head to the side. “Why are you knocking? You know it's open.” She left the doorway and kept moving.

Travis stepped inside and closed the door. “You're crankier than normal,” he said. “Did I wake you or something?”

She hated that he knew that about her.

“I'm just here to give Janelle something,” he said.

Libby walked back toward the bedrooms. “Janelle? Where are you?”

“In here with Daniel.”

Libby walked in. Daniel was on his side with a thermometer in his mouth, barely awake. Tiffany was already asleep. “How's he doing?”

“Temperature's almost back to normal. Must've been a twenty-four-hour bug, thank God. But he used that twenty-four to the full. Poor baby couldn't keep any food down today.” She kissed his forehead and tucked him in. “Night-night, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I didn't know it was so late,” Libby half whispered. “I'm about to run. And Travis just showed up.”

“Oh, I forgot.” Janelle walked with her out of the room. “I asked if he could stop by after Bible study and bring CDs of his Sunday sermon for Grandma and me.”

“How is she gonna listen to that?”

“You didn't know she had a boom box in her room?”

“Well, cool. Get your CDs. I'm getting on the road.”

Libby packed up her laptop on the dining room table and slipped into her leather jacket. She heard Janelle walk toward the family room.

“Hey, Travis, thanks for bringing those.”

“No problem. How's my girl?”

My girl?
Libby listened a little more closely as she shouldered her bags.

“She had a good day today,” Janelle said. “Got worn out power shopping with Stephanie, so she went to bed after dinner.”

“Power shopping, huh?” Travis laughed a little. “I'll pray she rests well tonight. Tell her I stopped by.”

“Mom?”

Libby could hear Daniel calling, but Janelle couldn't. She walked into the family room.

“Janelle, Daniel's calling you.” She started back toward the door when Travis called her name. She paused, turning slightly.

“Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Not really. Early meeting tomorrow.”

He stepped closer. “I thought we ended on a fairly good note when we talked. But you still have an attitude with me, and you didn't reply to my text.”

She turned more fully toward him, hands extended in disbelief. “Why would I need to reply? You didn't think I'd actually come to New Jerusalem on Sunday.”

“Why wouldn't you?”

“Travis, I hear what you're saying about where you are now, but it's a little hard for me to buy you in the preacher role.”

“To
buy
me in the
role
? You think I'm gaming?”

“I've dated so-called preachers before. Who knows?”

She turned, but he took her hand. “Libby, if you want to cast me in a role, let it be that of a friend.”

The way he looked at her, the feel of his hand . . . She didn't know what it was, but it made her skin tingle. And for a brief second she allowed herself to remember how much she once cared for him.

She let loose of his hand. “I don't hold anything against you from the past, but I really don't see any role you could play in my life going forward.”

He stared into her eyes as if recognizing what was there a moment before. “I understand. Just know that from where I stand, in my heart, that's how I regard you . . . as a friend.”

His gaze lingered seconds more, then he turned and left.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Friday, January 22

B
ecca could hear applause like thunder as the security detail led the Worth & Purpose speakers and musical artists along a back hallway that led to the arena. The lights had already dimmed, and the worship team had begun singing, which meant one thing—the kickoff to a new season of Worth & Purpose had begun.

The energy and enthusiasm had been palpable from the moment they'd met in the hotel lobby to be transported to the arena. Conference attendees staying at the same hotel had spotted the speakers and artists and rushed to say hello and take pictures. Becca had never seen anything like it. At the conferences at which she'd spoken, there was appreciation shown for the speakers, a picture here and there, but nothing near this level—these were Christian rock stars.

Becca had hung back a little, taking it all in. One woman was making the rounds, asking people to sign her Worth & Purpose shirt. She stopped when she got to Becca.

“Are you somebody?” she said.

Becca was taken aback. “I'm . . . a new speaker with Worth & Purpose, yes.”

“Oh, great.” She handed Becca the marker. “Then I'd love to have your autograph.”

Becca signed it, the first time she'd ever autographed anything, and a few others flocked her way at the implication that she must be one of them. There wasn't time to sign anything more, though, as the head security guy ushered them toward the exit and on board their shuttle. That scene stayed with Becca the entire ride, even as she chatted with speakers and artists she'd admired for years from afar. She was “somebody” now. Soon she'd be recognized and bombarded immediately at these events.

They'd been sequestered so far in the arena, hanging out below in catering, then taking time to pray before the start of the conference. But now, as their heels clicked toward the main area, the energy level was rising again.

The security guy pulled back a curtain and they made their way through one of the entrances. Worship music pulsated through gigantic speakers, but Becca could still hear the elevated cheers and applause when people saw them. Those who would be speaking and singing this weekend made their way to a special seating section. Becca was directed to an area near the Worth & Purpose leadership and staff. She had a front-row seat.

She remained standing with the rest, and as the minutes went by she was amazed by the sight—thousands of women with arms raised. Tears came to her eyes.

Lord, this is such an amazing experience. I can hardly believe that I'm here, that I'm part of this. Thank You for allowing me an opportunity to speak to so many women who long to be in Your presence. Prepare my heart, O God, so that when I take the stage next week in Richmond, You'll be glorified
.

When worship ended, a video played on the big screens, one that introduced the speakers in a fun way. Becca had been added too late to be part of it. Wendy Burns was in it, the woman she'd replaced. Becca had heard her speak at one of these conferences before. She'd been with them four years, but there'd been rumors that another national women's conference, For Such a Time, was trying to woo her away with a promise to make her their premier speaker. Becca knew it was useless to speculate, but in this setting speculation was running rampant. What if Wendy Burns had her baby and decided to stay home indefinitely to raise him or her? Or what if Wendy joined For Such a Time? Her departure could open up a spot on the team—a spot Becca could fill next year.

The first speaker, Christa Lane, took the stage after her intro. One of the conference stars who'd been with them almost from the beginning, she was in her late forties, with a beauty that captivated. Becca took in every detail, which was easy to do on the large screen. Christa wore black slacks with a blingy black tank, red leather jacket, and to-die-for black leather high-heeled boots. Her strawberry-blond hair was perfectly coiffed, just above the shoulders. And with every turn and flick of the wrist, her earrings, necklace, and bracelet glistened.

I need more bling
, Becca thought.
It shows up great in the lights
. Actually, she needed more clothes. But she wouldn't get her speaker's fee until after next week, and it would be hard to convince Todd she should go shopping meanwhile, given the expense associated with their move. She'd get Janelle and Stephanie to come over and help her piece together something stage-worthy from her closet. But as soon as she got paid, she'd treat herself to something fabulous.

Christa had the audience laughing. She had that way about her, able to make people laugh one minute, cry the next. Becca watched how naturally she moved, how comfortable she seemed. That was one of her prayers, to be natural and comfortable on the platform.

Becca had her phone in her hand. She opened up Twitter and tweeted,
Watching @ChristaLane at @WorthandPurpose kickoff conference. Always moved by her amazing gift
.

Seconds later, Worth & Purpose retweeted Becca, which meant thousands of their followers saw it. And a minute later, her phone notified her that she'd been mentioned in a tweet. She looked at it.

Love getting to know @BeccaDillon, newest member of @WorthandPurpose speaker team
.

It'd been tweeted by one of the other longtime speakers with the team. Having her endorsement, so to speak, melted Becca's heart.

Thank You, Lord, that they're making me feel like part of the team
.

Becca retweeted for all of her followers to see, adding,
Love getting to know u too!

The rest of the evening passed quickly, capped by a concert by Suzy Hill, an award-winning Christian recording artist who brought the house down. Tomorrow would be a full day of messages by other speakers as well as another concert.

The moment Suzy finished, security ushered out the Worth & Purpose team. They followed one another past the rows of women who had floor seats, many of whom smiled and waved at them, through the back hallways, and onto the waiting shuttle.

Becca took a seat near the front. On the way over she'd sat with a woman in the marketing department and got a kick out of learning that she was the one who operated the Twitter account. She looked up now, surprised by who'd joined her—Christa Lane.

“Your message was awesome tonight,” Becca said. “I never knew you battled eating disorders.”

“This is the first time I'm talking about it publicly,” Christa said. “I love that we get to share these intimate pieces of our lives, knowing it'll help others be set free.”

“Loved your message, Christa,” a member of the worship team said as she boarded.

That sentiment was echoed a few more times at least.

Christa carried on a dialogue with others around them, at one point looking back at Becca. “So how are you feeling about giving your message next week? Nervous?”

“Uh, that's fair.” Becca laughed. “Especially after seeing the stage up close tonight, and that jumbo screen.”

“You'll do fine,” she said. “I'm always nervous too. Feeds the energy.”

“No way you were nervous up there.”

“Absolutely!”

“Well, there's my prayer request. ‘Lord, help me to
use
the nervousness like Christa and not vomit it up in front of everyone.' ”

Christa laughed. “I
like
you. So glad you're part of our team. Oh, and I saw your tweet about me. Thank you. I started following you.”

“Hey, thanks.”

Becca didn't want that to be a big deal to her, but it was. She'd seen Christa's Twitter page. Over twenty thousand people followed her—including almost all Becca's Twitter friends—but Christa only followed back about five hundred. That woman in the hotel lobby came to mind. Becca was somebody now—even to Christa Lane.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Saturday, January 23

I
want all the little people to line up right here, shortest to tallest,” Stephanie said.

Daniel frowned at her. “I'm not little.”

Stephanie stood her five-foot-eight-inch frame next to him and looked down. “Uh-huh, back of the line.”

“Miss Stephanie, Ethan's not doing it,” Claire said.

Stephanie bent low in front of him. “Ethan, I know you're special in the following-directions department because you're only two and a half, so I'll help you.” She took his hand. “Right here, little man.” She walked him in front of Claire and stayed beside him.

“Okay, now . . . we'll get our breakfast in an orderly manner, one at a time. Ethan's first.”

Stephanie got a paper plate for him and picked him up so he could see the choices. “Ethan, would you like bacon?”

He nodded.

“Very good,” she said, putting a piece on the plate. “Eggs?”