Page 93 of Second Chance Fate

“The reason I don’t believe that is because I can’t tell you how many times I’ve received a text or an email and something has gotten lost in translation. I’ve had to ask the sender what they meant when they sent it. Anyone else?” He looked around, and people were nodding, looking at one another with knowing expressions. “And those messages are in a language I speak and in contemporary vernacular. The King James Version of the Bible was written by forty-seven different scholars, translating the Old Testament from Hebrew and the New Testament from Greek in 1611. Even modern versions vary in their interpretations of scripture.

“So we have multiple different versions translated from different languages, and then there is punctuation. Do you haveany idea how much punctuation can change a meaning? There’s the classic example: “Let’s eat, comma, Grandpa, exclamation mark,” versus, Let’s eat Grandpa, exclamation mark.” Or a woman, colon, without her, comma, man is nothing, is the polar opposite sentiment to: a woman without her man is nothing.

“And the last thing I’ll say on the subject of sin is this: besides interpretations of language, cultural shifts do determine what society deems is sin. There are Old Testament and New Testament sins. Leviticus has some zingers, everything from cutting your hair to wearing an outfit with more than one texture. Mom, and I swear I didn’t plan this, according to Leviticus twelve-two, you were ceremoniously unclean after giving birth to me and should have waited thirty days before going into a sanctuary or touching anything sacred, so, oops.” He clenched his jaw and hissed as some people chuckled. “And I know that most Christians believe that the Old Testament sins don’t apply, but the New Testament has some doozies, too.

“One of those is a woman cutting her hair is a no-no. Now you might say, well, obviously that isn’t a sin. And most people these days believe that Paul’s comments were specific to the Corinthian church, but that doesn’t change that it is in there. If anything, it proves my point.” He shrugged. “Some of the other sins in the New Testament are envy, pride, gluttony, sloth, greed, wrath, lying, judging, and jesting. Yes, joking around. Of course, there is context, but we’re talking about thousands of years, multiple languages, and translations.

“My point in all of this is that I am never going to be the pastor who will argue when it comes to sin. I am not going to stand up here or sit down there and ever claim to know what is or isn’t sin, or which sin is worse than another sin. Or who is sinning more than someone else. I have enough to do worrying about myself. If I see something concerning, I’ll pray about it, and you should do the same. Because as long as I am the seniorpastor here, from this day forward, there will be zero tolerance for weaponizing prayer meetings and prayer requests to use as a vehicle to gossip, lie, shame, and slander people, which is what I’m hearing is going on.

“As far as this church goes, as long as someone is not hurting someone else or breaking the law, obviously,everyoneis welcome. Period. I do not see my role in leadership as a platform for judgment. In fact, it’s the opposite. I see my role as the person who loves unconditionally, because no matter what translation you use, the Bible is very clear on what it has to say onlove,and also is very clear on what it has to say onjudgment. Which is another subject I want to address today.

“Judgment… One example of judgment is when an author who writes romance novels started attending our church one of our members had an issue with that. She didn’t feel that someone who wrote, and I’m quoting,corn that starts with p or smut, end quote, should be going to this church. That woman came to speak to me about her convictions. And I sat silently, listening to her self-righteous rant for over thirty minutes.” Caleb kept scanning past Patsy as he told the story. He wasn’t staring directly at her, but he certainly wasn’t trying to avoid her eye contact. “Once she finished, I asked her a very simple question: What about if she wrote true crime? Or horror or psychological thrillers or cozy mysteries? Or what if she wrote a teen drama and the characters lied or had characters who were lazy or gluttonous? Or if she wrote women’s fiction and the characters in her stories had affairs? Then what? Would she not be welcome here? Why is what she writes any different than that? It’s the human experience. Who are we to put any more or less value on certain, quote-unquote, sins? I then went on to tell her that I don’t personally find anything wrong with what that author writes, but let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that I did. I did believe that she was going down a path that wasn’tright. Wouldn’t being in church be the best place for her? I asked her if she’d heard the saying that church is like a hospital for the sick, not a cruise ship for saints. Isn’t this where she could hear from God himself if he felt the need to put conviction in her heart instead of condemnation from peopleclaimingto hear from God? The woman in my office must not have appreciated the bunny ears I did when I saidclaiming,because she stood up and left my office in a huff.

“I went and spoke to the author after that meeting, just to make sure there hadn’t been any issues, and I found out the person who complained had followed her to her car in the parking lot and told her that she should be ashamed of herself, among other horrible things. I apologized profusely, and the author said, “Unfortunately even the publishing world treats romance writers exactly like the woman who followed her to the parking lot.” Caleb looked directly at Patsy. If she were a cartoon, she’d have smoke coming out of her ears. He honestly didn’t care. He held her gaze for a beat as he continued, “I am going to lead with love. I want this place to be a place of acceptance. No one knows what it’s like to be anyone else here. I don’t know what it’s like to be you, and you don’t know what it’s like to be me.

“Which leads me to the past few weeks. There’s been a lot of talk about my personal life. It’s been said that I’m living in sin with a single mom. That I have a love child. Some of you have heard rumors of a wedding at my parents’ house yesterday and have wondered if that was some sort of damage control, like I have a PR machine or something. I know you all have had a lot of questions: some are just out of curiosity, some I’m sure are from a place of genuine concern, and some…aren’t. While there is a lot I don’t feel comfortable sharing at this time, there is an announcement I want to make.”

Caleb stood, and he walked over to Taylor. He’d asked her if she felt comfortable making the announcement with him, and he could introduce her to everyone by his side. He could tell that she wasn’t comfortable with it, but she’d agreed. When he saw that she was uneasy about it, he immediately retracted his proposal, but she said she’d rather have all the eyes on her at once and just get it over with. She referred to it as ripping off the Band-Aid. She’d kept a low profile for months out of fear that Martin would find her, but since they’d let Eric Maguire know about her situation, the entire Hope Falls PD was aware, and Eric himself was checking in daily with Martin’s P.O., so she was no longer in fear.

He held his arm out to her, and she placed her hand in his and stood. He guided her up the stairs of the altar and then turned them to face the congregation. His arm snaked around her waist. She was shaking like a leaf; her body was literally vibrating beside him. He dug his fingers into her hip, hoping that she felt his support. He leaned over and whispered against her ear so quietly, he was sure his lav mic didn’t pick it up, “Are you okay?”

She nodded with a forced grin plastered on her face. Then she turned to look at him, and he saw that her eyes were telling him to move it along.

“What we have decided to share is this: I can put all your minds at ease and tell you that I wasnotliving in sin. When Taylor came home from the hospital earlier this week, she was already my wife.”

There were audible gasps in the congregation.

“Yesterday, we had a small ceremony to celebrate our marriage. There were about twenty people in attendance.Ourson walked Taylor down the aisle, and my dad officiated.” There were more gasps and a few claps of excitement.

“I know that a lot of you might have wanted to celebrate with us, so Taylor suggested that we have a small reception this evening after church. I didn’t think it was a good idea because she just got out of the hospital, but she insisted she’s up to it, and I might be new to this husband thing, but if I’ve learned anything watching my parents, it’s that my dad telling my mom what she feels up to doing usually doesn’t end well… forhim, not for her.” There were some smiles and chuckles, and he squeezed Taylor tighter once more. This time, he felt her body relax. “So, we will be holding a reception down at the river, and everyone is invited.”

Caleb felt a weight lifted off of him as he wrapped the service up and instructed everyone to bow their heads and pray. As he led the prayer, Patsy stood and stormed out of the sanctuary. He had a feeling this was not the last he’d seen of her, but he wasn’t going to waste his time or energy worrying about that today. Today he was going to enjoy celebrating with his church, his wife, and his son…his family.

29

Taylor inhaled slowlythrough her nose and exhaled slowly out of her mouth as she tried to identify exactly what she was feeling. It took her a little bit to pinpoint what it was. She felt calm, happy, and at peace. Which, granted, was a new state for her to be in, but she still wasn’t exactly sure why she was hiding in the bathroom while the reception was in full swing.

For years, she’d functioned as a person who was in survival mode. A person who had no one to depend on. A person who was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and nine times out of ten, it not only dropped, it had a bomb attached to it that detonated when it hit the ground. But that wasn’t her reality anymore.

Not only did she have the most supportive, protective, loving, oh, andhotpartner and father to raise Owen with, in Caleb, but she also had an entire community around her that would be there if she or Owen ever needed anything. She used to allow herself to fantasize about a romantic relationship, but she never came close to imagining her life as it was today. Just like Owen saying Caleb was a better version of the fictional Coach Taylor, he was also better than the fictional man of her dreams.

Hearing him speak today made her feel so proud, so incredibly proud, that this was the man who was not only the father of her son but also her husband. He was the man whochoseto marry her. It felt like she was dreaming or she was living in a fairy tale, and Caleb was even better than a prince because he was actually real, and he came with a built-in support system. She’d always heard it takes a village to raise a child, but she didn’t even know villages like this existed.

So why was she hiding in the bathroom while right outside the door there were hundreds gathered down by the riverside celebrating her and her husband’s marriage?

For the last hour, she’d spoken to more people and been hugged more than she probably had in her entire life, and she was not being hyperbolic. Annie told her yesterday that the church would welcome her with open arms; she hadn’t realized that she meant that so literally. Taylor was feeling fine physically and didn’t feel ill, and she wasn’t that fatigued, but she was drained mentally and emotionally from sensory overload.

When she heard the squeak of the bathroom door opening, for some reason she panicked, rushed into the stall in the corner, sat on the toilet, and lifted her knees up to her chest so her feet were off the ground to hide. She wasn’t trying to be sneaky; she just wanted a few more minutes to herself.

Before the bathroom door closed behind her, she heard a female voice she didn’t recognize speaking in a tone that sounded stretched tight, like a rubber band about to snap. “Yes, I’m still at Yaya’s in Hope Falls. Yes, I’m staying here. No, I haven’t answered his calls.”

Taylor watched a pair of black Chuck Taylor Vans with white trim walk to the other side of the bathroom under the stall.

“Why?” She audibly inhaled and then exhaled slowly before emphasizing the next word in two separate syllables. “Be-causeIdon’t want to speak to him.Why don’t I want to talk to him? Is that a rhetorical question, or are you?—”

The Vans walked back under the stall to the other side.

“Oh, wow. You’reactuallyasking me. Okaaay, this should be fun.”

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