Page 83 of Debts and Desires
“Any requests?” I asked. He shook his head.
“Whatever you feel like playin’.” He let out another long sigh. “It’s my late wife’s birthday today. My mind needs the break.” I felt myself deflate, feeling even worse for the poor man. I nodded and started strumming. I was a little nervous performing for him, but I could tell he needed it.
Despite feeling bad for him, there was still something off about it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Jed’s visits than met the eye. His stories seemed rehearsed, and his eyes, while kind, held a glint of something I couldn’t quite place.
“You know,” he said after a while. “I wasn’t actually here for Lev—Carterthis time.” I let out a soft laugh, knowing I was right. “I came here to see you. I hope you don’t mind me sayin’, but your company is a breath of fresh air.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Well, you know I’m a preacher, but you don’t treat me any different. You stay your true self. Most folks put on a false niceness. I guess tryin’ to stay in God’s good graces. I don’t know. I don’t want people to fake around me, ya know?”
“That makes sense.” I said. “Well, I promise I will never be fake around you, Jed.”
The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows over our encounter. I continued to play my guitar, but my music had lost some of its earlier warmth. Mac remained vigilant, scratching at the back door every once in a while, letting me know he was there with a growl.
“Well, I better get goin’ here. Have a prayer meetin’ tonight,” he said, standing. I stood, too, walking him to the gate. “Thank you for lettin’ a sad old man listen to you for a little.” I guess Jed wasn’t as bad as I thought.
“You’re welcome. You can come listen whenever. Well, when I’m here, I mean.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I can let Carter know, too. And?—”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” he interrupted. I wrinkled my brows. Why didn’t he want Carter to know? Jed must have sensed my confusion because he added, “Levi and I aren’t necessarily on speakin’ terms right now. He’s angry with the church for reasons known only to him.” I stared at him. “I know I should’ve told you that straight away, but I didn’t want you to make assumptions and be angry with me, too. I’m just tryin’ to offer him a lifeboat of sorts.” He seemed even sadder. What was this poor preacher man going through?
“That’s okay, I understand. Just… let me know things up front from now on, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be here Thursday while Carter’s at work, if that helps,” I offered.
“It does. Thank you, sweet Emogen. The world needs more like you.”
Jed waved and headed out of the back to his pickup truck. I only know because I went inside and watched him from the window until he was out of sight again.
I found myself out writing a few bits of lyrics about him later. A song I dubbed, “Preacher Man.”
I worked on it for a little before heading back in. A quick glance at the clock on the stove had me gasping. I had been outside forhoursand I needed to start on dinner soon. After refilling Mac’s kibble bowl, I turned to the kitchen, hands on my hips.
Having no idea what to make, I decided to call Carter. When I picked up my phone from the couch where I’d left it, I saw I already had a missed call from two hours ago.
“Hey, baby,” he greeted. “You fall asleep or somethin’?”
“No. I was out back working on songs and lost track of time. I’m sorry I missed your call. What’s up?”
“I got an email that my package was delivered. Just wanted you to make sure it was and open it for me.”
“Let me check.”
I headed out through the front door and sure enough, the brown cardboard parcel was waiting for me in the sun. I hoped it wasn’t anything that could melt and I felt a pang of guilt as I lifted it and brought it inside.
I must have really been lost in my music to have not heard the delivery manandJed. I assumed Mac never barked because he was near the back door waiting for me to come back in. I hadn’t let him out because I just needed a moment to myself out back. I felt even more horrible then, now knowing how many hours I’d been out there. I’d make it up to Mac with treats.
“You said you want me to open it?” I double checked.
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.” I grabbed the scissors out of the drawer. “So, what do you want for dinner?” I asked, as I sliced the tape and opened the package. “I was think—” I stopped, my face probably turning as red as a stoplight.
