Hope Springs - 05 - Wedding Cake by Lynne Hinton

started to cry again. “And now we don’t have a flight attendant and I feel like my plane is falling from the sky.” She shook her head. “And I don’t know where to look for comfort or help or instruction.”
    The pastor didn’t respond for a while. He just sat while Beatrice cried. Finally, he leaned forward, glanced over at Beatrice, and spoke. “Beatrice, I will never be Margaret and I can’t be Reverend Stewart, but I would like to be your friend, if you’d let me. I know it’s been hard to accept me here and I’ve respected that difficulty for all the time I’ve been at Hope Springs.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m kind of lone-some too,” he added. “It would mean a lot to me for you and the others just to let me in, a little.” He cleared his throat again, and Beatrice looked. “I miss her too,” he said. “I miss Margaret Peele too.”
    The two sat there for a few minutes without speaking until a couple of the children came over to the fence that surrounded the playground and stared at the two grown-ups sitting on the bench near them.
    One of them, a little girl about five years old, called out, “Pastor Tom, are you and that lady all right?”
    He smiled at the little girl. “Libby, I think we’re both going to be okay,” he replied. “And you are very sweet to come over and check on us,” he added.
    The little girl grinned. “Well, Pastor Tom, you said that you were my friend, and making sure you’re okay is what friends do,” she said, sounding very much as if she thought the minister ought to know that already. Then she shrugged and took the hand of the little girl standing beside her, and they turned and ran back to the swing set.
    Beatrice turned to look at the pastor. “Margaret would want me to ask you for help,” she said. “She probably was the one who sent you to me today,” she added.
    Reverend Joles smiled and took Beatrice by the hand. “And what kind of help are you needing, my friend?” he asked.
    “Well, Pastor,” she confessed. “It’s kind of a long story but it starts with a wedding in Mexico.”
    “That sounds like a movie I just watched last night,” he remarked. “Do you get HBO?” he asked.
    “
I am planning to pay for those channels!
” she yelled, and the pastor looked at her in confusion.
    “Okay,” he responded.
    All the children and teachers on the playground turned and looked in their direction.
    “I’m sorry,” she apologized to the reverend, and then spoke loudly enough for the others to hear. “I’m sorry.” She waved at them with the handkerchief, and they returned to their play. “I’m still just a little upset,” she said to Reverend Joles, realizing she still had his handkerchief. She handed it back to him.
    He glanced down at the dirty handkerchief. “Just keep that, Beatrice.”
    She nodded and placed it back on her lap.
    “So, your story starts with a wedding in Mexico.” He repeated what she had said earlier.
    The two of them stopped talking and watched as the teacher called for the children to assemble into a line and follow her into the building. The children laughed and shouted as they walked inside. In the back of the line, Libby, just before heading through the door, turned and waved. And the two adults, smiling at the little girl as she left the playground, waved together, looking a lot like old friends.

Chile con Queso
    4 tablespoons butter
    1 large onion, finely chopped
    2 cloves garlic, minced
    2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
    1 cup light cream
    2 10-ounce cans chopped tomatoes
    2 8-ounce packages Monterey Jack cheese, shredded
    1 4-ounce can hot chopped green chiles
    Melt butter in a large skillet and sauté onion and garlic. Sprinkle flour while stirring. Add cream and tomatoes to ingredients in skillet. Bring to a slight boil and simmer 2 minutes, stirring. Add the cheese a half cup at a time, keeping the heat turned down. Add chiles.
    —Janice B.

Chapter Ten
    C arla was awake, dressed, and sitting