"Whatcha got there?" Jake leaned over and tried to read the lyrics.
Cooper slammed her book closed, her neck reddening. "It's not mine," she blurted.
"Hey,
I've
used that line a time or two in my life." Jake chuckled and opened a piece of Fruit Chill--flavored Nicorette gum. "Man, this is sure gonna spoil the taste of your banana muffins, Quinton," he said, and popped the gum in his mouth.
Relieved that Jake hadn't been more per sis tent about the song lyrics, Cooper asked, "How's the whole quitting thing going? I have my worst cravings right after supper. That's when I used to sit out on my steps and smoke while I watched the stars come out. Now I just stuff cookies down my throat."
Jake guffawed. "I hear ya, lady. I'm getting fatter and meaner every day. Least that's what my coworkers tell me." He grew thoughtful. "Still, I can climb stairs up folks' houses now without strugglin' for breath, so I'll take that as a good sign."
"The way you're striving to improve yourself has given me that perfect segue for our study today, Jake, thank you." Savannah cleared her throat and the members grew silent. "In chapter four, Paul urges us to 'live a life worthy of the calling.' Then Paul goes on to list the attributes we should all strive to possess if we want to be the best Christians we can be." She traced her hand along the text in her workbook. "Paul asks us to have humility, gentleness, patience, love, and acceptance of one another."
"That last one's the tough one," Jake muttered.
Savannah smiled. "You are so right, Jake. After all, we're not talking about loving and accepting people you
already
like and admire. Paul knows that we can easily love and accept
them
, so he is most likely referring to the folks that drive you crazy! The people that you'd rather shake by the shoulders than pull into an embrace. Does anyone have a person they could try harder to love and accept?" She wiggled her finger in warning. "No names, please."
"One of my former bosses made it clear that he didn't think I had what it took to become a top Realtor," Trish began, her lacquered lips turning down at the corners. "He said that prime listings were a man's job and I'd better stick to selling the 'modest' homes. He tried to make me concentrate on rentals, which provided almost no commission, and handed all the top listings to a guy nicknamed Slick Mick."
"But you showed him, huh?" Bryant chucked Trish in the arm. "You've got a successful realty business of your own now."
"Thank you. Yes, I am a success," Trish responded with uncharacteristic softness. "But when I see this man at conferences or trade shows, I still feel like I've got something to prove. I still feel insignificant around him. The idea of loving and accepting him, well, that would be a
real
challenge."
"At least you showed him what you made of, and you can bet he's noticed," Jake commented in admiration. "The person I've got a hard time feelin' love for is my pop. He left when I was four and we haven't heard a peep from him since. I've never had a chance for him to be proud of me for anything."
Savannah reached out and found Jake's trembling hand. She clasped it in her own. "That must have been hard."
Jake's eyes grew glassy, but he shook his head and blinked back the tears. "But he's still my father and I might forgive him, if he ever gave me the chance." Jake chewed furiously on his gum and fell silent.
Savannah shared how it was challenging to accept one of her sons-in-law. "He says nasty things about my work--whispers them into my daughter's ear while I'm in the room--as if I were deaf, not blind." She took a sip of coffee. "I just hope he doesn't belittle her about the work she does."
"That strikes a chord with me," Nathan said quickly. "I've got a bad vibe about this guy my sister's dating. He seems to drink a lot and I've heard him yelling at her in the background while we're talking on the phone."
"Are you concerned about abuse?" Quinton inquired gently.
Nathan shrugged. "I think my sister would tell me if things had turned violent, but she's just such a great kid and deserves much, much better. I'm struggling with loving the man she says she loves. In fact, I wish they'd break up. I know it's not very charitable of me, but it's the truth."
"At least you've got issues with someone from the present," Quinton grumbled. "I'm still trying to get over all the kids who made fun of me for being fat. I mean, we're talking about being taunted in school halls almost twenty years ago." He turned one of the rings on his finger around and around. "I try to imagine meeting one of those kids now that we're grown-ups. I visualize approaching them with an offering of friendship and just letting go of all the bad memories and starting fresh." He smiled and his chubby face folded into a series of charming dimples. "It makes me feel good to imagine that."
Savannah nodded. "That's a terrific example of making an effort to love and accept our less-than-favorite people. You've inspired us, Quinton. Thank you. Anyone else?"
Bryant twiddled his silver pen back and forth in his right hand. "There's a nurse at my mama's rest home. I do not like the woman. She treats all the residents like they're bothering her and they should all just end their days sitting quietly in front of the TV." He put down the pen. "But listening to you guys made me realize something. This woman may have her own story of hurt or loss. Maybe someone did her a great enough wrong that it's been eating her up, making her a meaner person than she really wants to be. What if I did something nice for her? Brought her flowers? Wrote her a note about how much I appreciated her caring for my mother? It might turn her around a bit. Maybe all she needs is for someone to express some kindness." He thumped his desk enthusiastically. "I'm going to give it a shot!"
The members murmured their approval. Cooper was impressed by Bryant's insight and was once again embarrassed for judging him by how he appeared on television--vain and vapid.
Smoothing a lock of heavily gelled blond hair, Bryant turned to face her. "What about you, Cooper?"
Cooper was ready to tell her friends about her unusual looks. "I've spent a long time letting go of a grudge against the girl who caused my accident." She touched the lid of her green eye and fingered the curved pink scar beneath her brow. "It happened during our field hockey practice. She was showing off for this boy she wanted to impress, so when she hit me, it was because she wasn't paying attention." She looked back at Bryant. "I stopped going to church with my family because I didn't want the folks there who knew me before the accident to see what I looked like afterward. For some reason, I felt like I must have deserved what had happened to me and they'd all recognize that, I don't know ... I'd been marked. I've only prayed a couple of times out in my green house since then. That is, until I met you all. Now I'm praying like a madwoman."
Cooper smiled and then picked up her pen and examined the silver lettering written along the base, twisting it back and forth beneath the light so that the letters twinkled. "It wasn't until I was in my twenties, after I got used to how I looked, that I started thinking that the young woman whose eye I was given ... She was in a much more serious accident than me." She dropped her gaze to her workbook and watched the black words blur. "She died," she whispered. "And any time I've stared at myself in the mirror and not liked what I saw, I remember the gift that stranger gave me. It took a while, but eventually I knew that I couldn't be angry at the girl who did this to me. I guess I felt it would be a lousy way of showing my gratitude for having not lost my sight."
For a moment, the room was silent. Quinton took a bite of a glazed cruller and stared at Cooper. "Well, I think you probably see more clearly now that you almost lost your vision. Look how well Savannah sees without her eyes." He sighed. "I wish I had more insight. I've been reading Brooke's document over and over again, looking for more clues, and am coming up dry."
"Cooper found more scraps from Brooke's copier," Nathan announced proudly as the worship music commenced. "We can see if any of the pieces fit after the service."
"I would have brought them to you sooner," Cooper hurriedly added, "but you didn't answer your phone."
"Business trip," Quinton replied with regret. "I'm sorry. I'd much rather have been working to find Brooke's killer."
"It was only a few days," Trish consoled Quinton. "Let's get pizza at Chianti and we'll get right to work. I've been craving a slice of feta, red roasted tomatoes, and ka-lamata olives all week."
The group agreed and made their way to the chapel. Savannah took Nathan's arm and Cooper trailed along behind the rest of them. As they headed in the direction of the music, Quinton stepped into the men's room. Pretending to have left something behind in their study classroom, Cooper loitered outside the bathroom until he emerged. She then held out the piece of paper bearing his song lyrics.
"I've been looking for the chance to give this back to you," she said hastily. "You dropped it during the service last week and I wanted to return it when you were alone, but ..." She trailed off, hoping he'd accept her excuse without questioning why she had kept it for so long.
Without looking at her, Quinton accepted the paper, folded it into a small square, and tucked it inside his suit jacket. "Did you read it?" he whispered nervously.
Cooper squeezed his arm and smiled encouragingly. "I thought it was lovely."
Quinton's face glowed. "Really?"
"Really."
"I scribble lyrics all the time. They just pop into my head." He sighed happily. "Someday, I'd love to get them set to music. Who knows, maybe even have one sung at church."
They began to walk down the hall. "Well, I'd sure love to hear those words come to life," Cooper said and then the two of them joined their friends for worship.
Nathan made sure that he pulled into Chianti's parking lot right behind Cooper. As she opened Cherry-O's door, he dashed around Sweet Pea and grabbed the door before she could close it.
"I just wanted to apologize for last night," he said, his breath coming quickly. "It was incredibly rude of me to stay on the phone for so long. It was a client of mine. One of those people you can't interrupt because they talk without stopping for breath." He paused and uttered a goofy chuckle. "Kind of like I'm doing right now. But I'm really sorry. I was having such a great time with you too."
As much as Cooper wanted to avoid any feelings of discomfort with a member of her Bible study, she couldn't help wondering why Nathan was lying to her. How could he call a woman from his Internet dating service a client? She looked at his pleasant face and his smiling eyes and wondered how he could be so duplicitous.
"And thanks for cleaning up," he continued, oblivious to her irritation. "I'd really like to show you how sorry I am by taking you out to dinner. I'll lock my cell phone in the car and you can leave the dishwashing to the restaurant employees. Pick any place you'd like to go. What do you say?"
Before Cooper could give Nathan a negative reply, Quinton heaved himself out of a cream-colored Cadillac. He walked over to Cooper and said, "I stopped by a CVS and picked up some glue. Do you mind if I see if those scraps of paper you found will fit anywhere on our document before we eat?" His cheeks turned a bit pink. "I know it's silly, but I feel like I've got a good shot at making sense of that thing since it's about financial matters."
Cooper handed over the plastic bag containing the minute shreds. "It's all yours."
"Terrif c!" Quinton beamed. "Now let's go order. I'm getting their Italian combo pie: mushrooms, pepperoni, sausage, pepper, and onions. That'll fill a man's stomach."
Cooper's belly growled in agreement and the threesome entered the casual eatery. Bryant and Jake pushed two square tables together to form a rectangle. As a group, they ordered four different pies, including the Mediterranean White that Trish had wanted and the Italian pie that Quinton had longed for along with pitchers of sweet tea and soda.
"I've finally got something worthy to contribute to our investigation," Savannah announced once the waitress had distributed the drinks and plastic tumblers filled with ice. Quinton was too busy gluing to bother looking up from his work.
"That's good news," Trish answered. "I hope you can shed some light on at least one of our two mysteries."
Savannah turned toward Nathan. "When you called me Friday night, you said that Brooke's assistant claimed that Brooke and Wesley had fought just before she was killed, right?"
"Yes," Nathan agreed. "Cindi said that the Hugheses had an argument on the phone, but she didn't know what it was about. Cooper and I didn't believe her, but we couldn't think of how to press her any further."
"That's just fine, because Brooke's librarian friend, Deanna, knew all about their quarrel. The subject of the fight was Caleb, their son."
Trish clucked her tongue. "Parents do tend to argue about their children. Which school should they go to? Which friends should they have? Do they look good in yellow? All sorts of things."
Savannah waited patiently for Trish to stop talking. "Caleb is a graduate student at Georgetown University. At least he was. This is his second year of business school, but he'd been doing so poorly in his classes that he dropped out without telling his parents."
"Oh, man!" Quinton exclaimed. "My folks would have killed me."
"There's more," Savannah continued. "The reason behind his slipping grades was purely alcohol-related. Caleb finally came clean with his daddy and Wesley checked him into a treatment center two days before Brooke was killed. He didn't want to tell Brooke until after their anniversary celebration, but Caleb called Brooke at work and opened up about everything."
