"This is some church," Cooper muttered to herself and looked around the deserted hallway. She noticed a bulletin board for Students Against Drunk Driving and a sign-up sheet for prom queen nominations. "I am
so
glad to be out of high school. I don't think I could survive it nowadays." Cooper tapped the bulletin board and listened to the sound echo around her. Where was everyone? She glanced at her watch. It was almost nine. Didn't the service start at nine? Which hallway would take her to the chapel?
Aware of the noisy
clip-clop
of her only pair of heels, which had lain dormant in the far reaches of her closet since the office Christmas party, Cooper made an attempt to walk on the balls of her feet. Tiptoeing, she glanced down every hall she passed, but didn't see another human being until she ran smack into a long torso clad in a blue-and-yellow-checked button-down.
"Sorry!" said a baritone voice somewhere well above her height of five foot six. After collecting herself, Cooper scrutinized the face of the very tall form she had collided with. She saw a pair of friendly brown eyes and a slightly bashful but kind smile. It was a pleasant face all around, though rather high in the forehead and sharp in the chin.
"Are you new to Hope Street?" the man asked softly, coming a step closer.
Cooper nodded. "Yes, and I'm totally lost." She laughed nervously. "This wing is like a rabbit warren, only I think their burrows smell less like Lysol."
The man's grin widened. "Come on, I'll show you where to go. I'm Nathan Dexter, by the way."
Pleased that she had an escort to the service, Cooper replied, "Nice to meet you. I'm Cooper."
"That's an unusual name for a woman," Nathan commented as they shook hands. "Must have been a barrel maker somewhere in your family history," he said as though the idea was fascinating. "I really like names that repeat in one family. Guess I admire the cyclical nature of old names. It's sort of a way of uniting people from different generations, you know?" He cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed. "That's my backward way of saying I think your name is cool."
"Thanks." No one had ever complimented Cooper on her name before. "It was my great-grandfather's. And you're right, he was named after his aunt--her last name was Cooper--and her father
was
a barrel maker. She didn't make any barrels, but she filled a lot of them with whiskey and dill pickles."
"Two of my favorites." Nathan grinned. "And don't be too impressed with my attempt at intelligence. I'm just a computer geek who likes crossword puzzles, so I've got my nose stuck in a dictionary a lot." He shrugged his shoulders and Cooper half-expected them to touch one of the exit signs. "We're in here, to your left."
Cooper hesitated for a moment, as the doorway appeared to lead into a classroom, not a chapel. She could hear the murmur of several voices, but not the rumble of dozens and dozens of parishioners getting settled for service. What was going on? With Nathan right on her heels and closing fast, she had no other choice but to enter.
All chatting ceased as soon as Cooper stepped through the threshold. Four people were seated in a circle, their hands folded on top of student desks. Each person had a copy of the Bible opened in front of them, along with a few sheets of paper covered with notes, and a pen. Their postures were relaxed and they all smiled at her in welcome.
"Who's there?" asked a woman seated closest to the door. She had black hair, dark blue eyes, and unusually pale skin. She also seemed to be trying to figure out who had entered the room.
"It's Nathan, Savannah." Nathan called from the doorway. "And this is Cooper." Nathan gestured for Cooper to move nearer to where the woman sat. "Cooper," he said. "This is Savannah. She's the leader of our little group."
The woman held out a calloused hand speckled with colorful stains, like a child who used permanent markers and was only able to wash away the surface layer of pigment. Cooper placed her hand into the woman's. "Aha! Another woman who works using her hands!" the group leader announced enthusiastically.
As Cooper glanced around, wondering how to make a polite escape in order to locate the actual worship service, she noticed a white cane beneath Savannah's desk.
"In case you haven't guessed, I'm legally blind," Savannah said as if she knew exactly what Cooper had seen. "But I can still see shapes and, thank the Lord, colors. I figure out people by their outlines and their smell." She gave a series of sniffs like a bloodhound catching a fresh fox scent. "Let's see, you're Dove soap, aloe lotion, a little guava-scented shampoo, and ..." She inhaled deeply and Cooper inched away even further. "Well, I'll be. I believe you might work on machines. Am I totally off the mark?"
"I repair office machines," Cooper answered in surprise, staring at the woman. "How did you know?" She pretended to check her armpits. "Am I giving off a whiff of toner? Maybe some grease? I use baby powder Secret every morning, I swear."
Savannah laughed.
"Okay, okay," a man who looked like he was in need of a haircut and shave quickly interjected. "Let the lovely lady get situated before we pry her open like a mussel and check out her innards." He held out his hand for Cooper to shake. "I'm Jake. Recovering Catholic, plumber and electrician, and Little League baseball coach. I'm here 'cause one of my buddies started readin' Scripture durin' our lunch breaks and I felt called to learn some more. Come sit by me and I'll get you some coffee."
Cooper gave him a grateful nod but didn't settle into the empty desk he pulled over. "Actually, I think I'm in the wrong place," she stated and smiled politely.
"We're the Sunrise Bible Study Group," a woman wearing gobs of makeup beneath a helmet of copper hair explained. "I'm Trish Tyler. I'm here because my husband's one of Hope's elders," she said importantly. "And I'm sure you know
my
name because you've bound to have seen my billboards. My assistants tease that I'm trying to get as many as South of the Border!" She leapt up and placed a business card on Cooper's desk. "No cacti or sombreros on mine, though. Anyway, welcome to Hope Street."
Cooper had heard of Trish Tyler, as she was a well-known face in real estate. Her picture was plastered on billboards, moving vans, and on the hundreds of Tyler Realty
FOR SALE
signs across the city. Trish was seated next to another well-known Richmonder. Bryant Shelton was the meteorologist for Channel 6 news. He was notorious for being incredibly vague in his forecasts, for his string of marriages to women much younger than himself, and for raising funds for poverty-stricken senior citizens.
Bryant offered Cooper his best TV smile, nearly blinding her with the stark whiteness of his porcelain veneers, and said, "I'm new as well. Just joined a few weeks ago." He pointed at Trish. "She gave
me
a business card within the first ten seconds of my arrival too. Personally," he said, raising his voice as he winked playfully at Trish, "I think she puts them in the offering plate so that everyone can see them as it gets passed around."
"That's not a bad idea, Bryant." Trish pretended to count her business cards. "Do you think I have enough?"
Bryant gave Cooper a flirtatious smile. "I like the young and hip feel of this church. It might look old school, but this church is hi-tech." The light in his eyes dimmed slightly. "Ever since my wife left, Sunday mornings were getting kind of lonely, so I came here to meet some new friends. The band is
really
good too. I never knew that church could be so much like a party. We really rock out during the service."
"That sounds cool," Cooper replied, trying to visualize the combination of a church service and a an Aerosmith concert.
"We haven't started our morning's lesson yet, so don't worry about missing anything," Trish said to ease Cooper's mind. "We're waiting for another member to arrive."
"That would be Quinton," Jake added. "Big-time banker dude and the best cake baker you ever met. He's probably late because he's frostin' the tenth layer of some awesome chocolate fudge cake." He grinned smugly. "That's why
our
study's better than everybody else's. We've got the best food."
Nathan was still blocking Cooper's path to the door. He cast an amused glance at Jake. "Well, that's all of us."
Savannah nodded. "Let's begin so we're not late for worship. I hope Quinton will join us shortly." She turned toward Cooper. "It's a good day for you to jump in, since the theme we're discussing is 'beginnings.' Next week we're going to start a study on Paul's letters called 'Dear Church: Paul's Letter in the Book of Ephesians.' "
Trish held out her workbook. "Cooper, you can just run over to LifeWay Christian store and buy one of these there. Then you'll be all set to join our little group."
Cooper was slightly baffled by what Savannah and Trish had said. She knew that Ephesians was one of the books in the Bible, but she'd never read it before, and though she'd driven by a LifeWay store on Broad Street, she'd never gone inside. "Sorry, but you've totally lost me. I don't even have a Bible." Feeling that was the wrong thing to say, Cooper quickly amended her statement. "I mean, with me. I've got a Bible at home, but I'm pretty sure it's a kid's Bible. It's full of colored illustrations and I think my name's written on the first page in purple crayon."
"My favorite color." Savannah patted the empty desk beside her. "Have a seat, honey. You can share my Bible. Shoot, I can't see it anyway!" She laughed and then waited patiently until Cooper sat down.
Savannah pushed a small Bible with a worn red leather cover toward Cooper's side of her desk and said, "I've had this since I was confirmed, so it's kind of like an old friend. I take it everywhere and it's never led me astray. It's my own version of a Seeing Eye dog."
"Hey, why don't you have one of those dogs anyhow?" Jake wondered. Cooper thought his voice sounded as if he were gargling gravel.
"I told you before. I don't want my blindness to come before
me
." Savannah held out her multihued hands. "And I don't want people to buy my paintings because I'm blind. I'd like the paintings to speak to something inside of them."
"Anyway," Trish interjected gently, "we're talking about how the book of Mark starts and how it's similar to Genesis." She elaborated for Cooper's benefit. "We were all going to kick off the study by sharing a significant 'beginning' in our own lives.
I
was going to share the ups and downs of starting my own business."
"I wish you'd tell me the secret," Jake answered as he handed Cooper a mug filled with coffee and a small pitched of cream. "I'm tired of workin' for The Man."
Smoothing her straight, copper-hued bangs, which looked as though they had been sprayed with polyure-thane and wouldn't budge an inch during a Category Five hurricane, Trish turned an intent pair of violet eyes (which were likely the result of contacts) on Jake. "Is that your new beginning? To start your own plumbing company?"
Jake shook his head. "Nah. I'm not ready to make that big a move just yet. Besides, my boss has always played straight with me and I like the other guys in my crew. Actually, my most recent beginning is this." He pushed up the sleeve of his long-sleeve crewneck with a flourish. Cooper noticed an enormous tattoo of a Celtic cross on his bulging bicep. An inch above the top of the cross was a square of flesh-colored material resembling a Band-Aid.
"Oh my." Trish put her hand over her lips as she stared at Jake's tattoo.
Savannah leaned closer to Cooper. "What is he showing us?"
"I'm wearin' a patch," Jake replied proudly. "I'm gonna quit smokin'. This patch is supposed to help me keep from wantin' to drive over to the nearest Wawa and buy a pack." His gaze remained fixed on Savannah's face as he awaited her reply.
"Good for you, Jake!" She clapped her hands together happily. "How many years have you smoked?"
Jake rolled his sleeve back down. "Started sneakin' the ole cancer sticks in junior high. All my friends did. It made us feel like men." He shrugged. "But now I know I don't need 'em to feel like a man and I'm damned tired of how they've got such a powerful hold over me."
"It won't be an easy struggle," Savannah said seriously. "But I have faith in you, Jake. You can do this and we'll encourage you in any way that we can."
Buoyed by her warm response, Jake's face broke into a smile and he seemed to grow an inch taller in his chair. Cooper noticed for the first time that he was a fairly attractive man behind his stubble and slightly unkempt hair.
"Hey, you've got a partner in withdrawal," she whispered to him. "I just threw a full pack of Camel Lights into the garbage can outside the back door."
Jake gave her a high-five and offered her a piece of nicotine gum, but she brandished the package of Wrigley's within her purse and, after exchanging collaborative grins, the pair returned their attention to Bryant.
"My best beginning was the day of my wedding," the meteorologist stated, pushing a wave of blond hair off his forehead. Cooper thought that Bryant looked like he should be on a beach in California instead of in a Bible study group in Richmond.
"I'm not trying to sound crass, but which wedding?" Savannah inquired.
Everyone giggled and Cooper took the opportunity to peek over at Nathan. He was refreshingly quiet. He simply listened to the others and sat in his chair with an aura of calmness that Cooper found appealing. She noticed that he tucked his feet under his chair as far as they would go and wondered if he was self-conscious about his height or his incredibly big shoes.
"The first one," Bryant answered without ire. He was undoubtedly used to answering questions from the local media about his marriages and divorces. Cooper realized that he was probably closest to her in age. Everyone else seemed to be in his or her late thirties.
