Changes on the Horizon

Comments or questions to me.

Cassandra "Sandy" Marcus stretched her lanky frame, trying to work the kinks out of her back after unpacking the last box. The promotion was unexpected, but welcome, as she fought to move up in the ranks of the home improvement chain. She pushed a lock of light brown hair out of her gray-green eyes, wondering where she could get a haircut in this town. "First things first," she muttered under her breath, "got to get this place in shape."

And shape it needed to get into.

Jenkins Home Improvement Stores, Inc. was an old, but forward-thinking regional chain, growing by a combination of opening new stores and buying out independent stores in smaller towns. The store Sandy had just moved to was in Wheatley, Texas, on the road between Lubbock and Amarillo. The store had been in the Collins family for generations, but the last owner, Albert Collins, decided to sell rather than turn it over to his daughter, Amanda, or her brother, Henry. Henry had no interest in running the store, and Amanda was about to get married.

Sandy stretched fully, cracking her back before finally sitting at her desk. First thing was to get someone from IT in here to run some sort of network, and an electrician to run the required outlets. She could get by temporarily with her laptop, tablet, and portable hot spot, but internet connections and additional outlets for computer equipment was a priority.

Before Sandy could boot up her laptop, she heard a soft knock at the door. "Come in," she boomed.

Amanda Collins timidly entered the office, smoothing her long skirt as she approached the desk. "Ma'am, you wanted to see me?" she asked in a soft, pleasant voice.

"Yes, I did. Please, have a seat, and call me Sandy." Sandy waited for the fair-haired young lady to perch on the battered wood chair before continuing. "I understand you've been working in the store since high school."

"Yes, ma'am. Sandy." A flash of shy dimples showed in Amanda's thin cheeks. "I started out running the cash registers and helping on the floor, but after high school I took over ordering stock and supplies from my mother, before she retired from the store."

Sandy cocked her head, asking, "So how have you handled ordering without computers, Amanda? Don't most suppliers do all of their placing orders online now?"

Amanda glanced around, then carefully shut the office door and reseated herself gingerly before responding, "It's been a challenge here lately. I had called in the orders, but more vendors want me to use their web site to place orders and check our accounts. I've never used a computer, let alone the internet, so I'm at a bit of a loss," she confessed.

The manager suppressed a sigh, wondering who she pissed off to get this assignment. Well, she wanted take on a challenge! "We'll get to that, Amanda. So how long have you been working here?"

"Formally, since I was sixteen, informally, most of my life. We've all pitched in as needed," she explained. "Would you like to see the order files?"

"Yeah, I could use a break," Sandy agreed, slipping her laptop and hotspot into one of the locking desk drawers. "Any chance I could get some coffee while we're at it?"

"Yes ma'am. Sandy." Amanda smiled briefly as she rose, opening the door. "Follow me."

Pastor Carl Matthews helped himself to a thick slice of lemon chess pie, hoping his wife would not see him eating it. She listens to Doc Robbins too closely, he thought, a little pie won't hurt. He hurried off to find an empty seat in the church hall, finally squeezing in between Amanda Collins and her cousin, Beth Price. "Good evening, ladies," he said cheerfully, "is this seat taken?"

"No sir," they chorused. Beth added, "Please, have a seat, Pastor Matthews."

"I believe I will, Beth," he chuckled, setting down his dessert, fork, and cup of coffee. "What did you think of my sermon tonight?" He took a bite, savoring the tangy, tart taste of the pie as the two young women animatedly discussed the sermon. He half-listened, a skill he'd developed over forty some odd years of ministry, knowing he'd be able to jump in at any time.

"So, what goes on at the hardware store?" Pastor Matthews asked Amanda as the conversation lulled. "You planning to quit when young Jimmy gets around to marrying you?"

Amanda looked in her cup, swirling the dregs of her coffee, wishing she could avoid the topic. "I don't rightly know," she finally said, glancing over at her dark-haired cousin, hoping that Beth would rescue her. I hate being questioned about Jimmy, she thought.

"Jimmy is a fine young man," Pastor Matthews continued, "it might be a little rough going at first, but he should be able to take over the pulpit from me in the next year or two. You don't mind helping him finish his schooling, do you?"

"No, sir," she said faintly. Yes, I really do mind, she thought, no one ever asked if I wanted to go to college.

Beth belatedly jumped in to rescue her, recognizing her cousin's discomfort. "Pastor Matthews, Ed got a job with that new drilling company in town and starts to work next Monday. We're planning to get married later this year, and would like for you to do the ceremony!"

"Congratulations!" he said, smiling broadly. "You and Brother Ed will make a fine match, a fine match indeed. So will you still live with your brother and sister-in-law until the wedding?" he asked.

Amanda tuned out, knowing the answers from here. Beth is so excited, and she will make a good wife for Ed, she thought. I wish I felt that way about my fiancé, Jimmy. Besides, I'm not sure I want to quit working when he can make a living, I enjoy working in the store.

Amanda's daydreaming was interrupted by Jimmy's appearance. "May I sit with you?" he asked.

She put on a smile she did not feel. "Certainly, Jimmy," she said, scooting her chair a little to make room for him. "How are your studies going?"

"Fine, fine," Jimmy said heartily, "now how is the hardware store? Have you met the new manager yet? What is he like?"

"The new manager is named Sandy Marcus, and I think I'll like her just fine. I showed her our order system this afternoon, and she talked to me about how Jenkins handles orders. We'll be getting computers in the store soon."

Jimmy frowned, asking, "Do you have to learn about computers? Will you be connected to the internet? You know it's full of sinful diversions, and evil viruses. Pastor Matthews says it is the work of the devil, you know."

Amanda glanced to make sure the pastor was still engrossed with his conversation with Beth before answering, "Jimmy, I'll be using it for work, not to play. I'll need to learn to use computers and the internet to do my job."

"Well, as soon as I finish school and Pastor Matthews retires, I can support you without you having to work," Jimmy assured her, patting her hand with his pudgy one. She repressed flinching at his touch. Why does it bother me when he does that? she wondered. "I'm hoping that we'll have a lot more members soon as the oil workers come into town."

"Our sales are already up quite a bit," Amanda said, "but I'm not sure they are really the church-going type."

Jimmy puffed out his chest, saying, "Pastor Matthews and I have already gone to the site manager's office, giving him our worship times and explaining that the town ordinances prohibit any non-necessary work on the Sabbath."

"How did that go?" Amanda asked.

Jimmy shrugged. "He listened, but he said that his workers were free to go to church or not. He also said that his company requires round the clock work, so we may have a battle for these men's souls on our hands."

"Excuse me for interrupting," Charlotte Collins said, touching Jimmy's shoulder for attention, "but the youth are ready for you to lead their Bible study. Are you ready?"

Jimmy shoved a last bite in his mouth, nodding. Amanda was grateful for her mother's interruption. Change is coming, she thought, and we might as well get used to it.

Sandy looked up from her laptop as she heard a soft knock at her doorframe. "Enter," she called out as Amanda popped her head around. "Amanda, come on it, I was just about to call you."

Amanda entered, stopping just short of Sandy's desk. "You asked to be told when the computer people were here. They just arrived, would you like for me to bring them up?"

"Sure, then stay for a bit. I need someone who knows the building as we discuss wiring for the network," Sandy said as she closed her laptop. A few minutes later, Amanda brought a man and a woman into the office. "Hi, I'm Sandy Marcus, store manager," she said, shaking hands with each in turn.

"Mary Reed, network specialist and Brody Holden, computer deployment," Mary said briefly. "So, what's the story? This is a pretty old building."

"Old family establishment, no network, no Wi-Fi, no computers at all," Sandy summarized. "Amanda Collins, my order clerk, has worked here since high school, her family owned the store."

"Hi," Amanda said quietly, smoothing her long skirt, "pleased to meet you."

"You too." Mary looked around the office, asking, "So, since we're on the second story, is there any room between the floor and the ceiling of downstairs? I'm wondering if we can run wiring through the floors, or if we need to deploy Wi-Fi instead."

Amanda tapped her chin, thinking. "You mean, is there room for wires? Yes, when we renovated a few years ago, we lowered the ceiling downstairs by nearly a foot so we could run electrical wires and AC vents. It was expensive, I know that. You can pull up some of the flooring here on the second floor to get to it."

"So the second floor is just offices?" Brody asked.

"Offices, file room, break room, a little back stock," Amanda confirmed. "What kind of wires are you talking about?"

"Computer cables, more electrical outlets," Mary explained, "the walls look pretty thick, so I'm not sure that Wi-Fi would be a good answer."

"Wi-fi?" Amanda asked, puzzled, "what's that?"

Mary answered, "It's like radio waves. Can you get radio stations in the offices upstairs?"

Her confusion cleared up somewhat. "We can get some stations, yes, but not AM, just FM." She stopped herself from adding, "But Pastor Matthews doesn't like us listening to vile music on the radio." Instead, she added, "I listen to the farm reports in the morning sometimes." She thought a moment. "I think I still have a copy of the plans in my file room, would that help?"

"Yes, absolutely," Mary said. "Let's go look at them, then we'll come back to talk to you more, Sandy. Brody, I'll be back." She gestured for Amanda to lead the way.

Brody watched them leave, then sat down, regarding Sandy. "So really no computers here? No internet in the town?"

Sandy nodded. "Yes and no. The town just recently very reluctantly granted a charter for cable TV and accompanying internet. Most of the natives were just buying digital rabbit ears for their TVs, but the people moving in for the oilfields apparently drove the demand for TV and internet. Most people who had internet before had satellite service. It seems that one church has a lot of power in this town, and their head pastor is dead set against the 'evils' of computers." She shook her head. "I have to be careful, Amanda and half the workers here belong to the church."

Before Brody could ask anything else, Mary and Amanda came back from their tour. "Brody, I think we're okay," Mary said, "but your crew will need to run network connections in a lot of places. If Sandy agrees, there's an empty office we can convert into a server room. Amanda says it hasn't been used in a while."

"Do it," Sandy said. "Anything else?"

"No," Mary sighed, "but my group will have a lot of work cut out for them." She ran a hand over her thick black hair, thinking. "Amanda, is there anywhere we can set up training? Like, set up a bunch of computers at tables? Something like a classroom."

Amanda thought for a moment, then answered, "Not here, the break room is probably too small." She frowned, concentrating. "Maybe we could ask the high school if we could borrow a room."

"Anywhere else in town? Library? Public building?" Brody piped up. "I'd need either lots of outlets, or we simply get a lot of laptops with good batteries."

Amanda brightened. "We have a meeting room at my church that would work. We use it to teach Bible classes after school, and it does have an overhead projector, screen, and outlets on every wall. Would something like that work?"

"It might," Brody said reluctantly, "would we need to rent it? Who do I contact?"

"Mrs. Hibbitts, the church secretary. She's in charge of scheduling, and can tell you the exact dimension, layout, number of tables and chairs, and so on."

Sandy, Mary, and Brody exchanged glances, then Sandy said, "Okay, you three work on this. Amanda, you and anyone else in the back office need the most training, but everyone on the floor will need training as well. We have the stock computers on the floor, the cash registers, and the order computers in the stock room."

The four tossed around additional ideas and questions for a while longer until Sandy shooed them out. I had no idea what I was getting myself in for, she thought as she opened her laptop. But Amanda may prove to be my ace in the hole.

"All right, people, let's settle down," Sandy called out, "is everyone here?"

"Should be," Kent Hamilton, assistant manager, called out.

Sandy looked around, taking in all the store employees. Corporate had started pestering her about when the store was going to start really looking like a Jenkins store instead of the old Collins store. The signage had been changed, Mary's crew was busy installing network cabling, and Brody's group was installing and testing the systems. But now she had to start getting the employees lined up, thus the early morning all hands meeting. At least I have a budget for food she thought sourly. Coffee, donuts, and breakfast burritos from the local diner worked wonders in getting everyone here early.

"Thank you for coming," she started, looking around the crowded break room, "I know there have been a lot of questions, and now I have the answers. First, we're going to be providing you with Jenkins polo shirts and long sleeved shirts for your uniforms. All Jenkins stores provide these to their employees, so we'll also need to know how many of what size. You can wear either jeans or khakis, no shorts. Second, we'll start classes on how to work the order, inventory, and other systems in the next week. Class rosters and times will be posted here in the break room and next to the time clock."

"What about women?" one of the young cashiers asked.

Sandy had been warned by Amanda that a number of the women would refuse to wear pants due to religious reasons. She took a deep breath and answered, "If you work in an office, or just as a cashier, you may continue to wear skirts. If you work on the floor or in the back, we ask you to wear sturdy pants for protection. Company rules. Which reminds me, we finally received our shipment of company handbooks. Amanda, could you start passing them out, please?"

I'm sure glad that Kent didn't resist the changes, as a few of the department managers are doing, Sandy thought, watching the young woman handing out stacks of booklets. "Kent, will you go over the new schedules?" she asked.

Kent stood up to speak. "Jenkins has been quite flexible in allowing us to keep our regular hours and schedules during the transition time, but we need to adjust our hours to match the corporate standard. Starting next Monday, our store hours will be 7:00 AM to 9:00 PM, Monday through Saturday, and noon to five on Sundays. New work schedules will be posted to match the new hours. Shipping, receiving, and inventory folks will need to start at 6:00 AM for daily restocking, and we'll need the late shift to stay until ten o'clock to close. We'll try to take into account your various obligations and activities, but we will have to staff the store during the posted hours."

There was a huge eruption of sound as workers started protesting the new hours, especially the Sunday hours. Sandy and Kent waited for the initial shock to pass, glancing at each other to determine when to interrupt. Finally, Sandy nodded and Kent called out, "Folks, listen up." The hubbub died down slowly until Kent could speak again. "I know we've always been 8:00 to 6:00, Monday - Saturday, but the reality is that we need the longer hours. The companies coming in here for drilling need a place to buy tools, supplies, etc. long after we had been closing, and we can't afford to miss the extra business. Mr. Collins was always nice, taking our church activities into account, but I've been away to college and back, and the way of the world is now flexible schedules and working on Sunday."

Sandy added, "We will be doing our best to take your church and school activities into account, but my regional director is already asking why we didn't start opening early and staying open late as soon as the ink was dry on the deal. I did win a concession for a few months to close at nine instead of ten, and to be open short hours on Sunday."

One of the seasoned workers asked, "So what happens if we refuse to work Sundays?"

Sandy replied, "According to company rules, I can fire anyone for refusing to work their scheduled shifts. But, as Kent and I have pointed out, we'll be doing our best to work with you, not against you. Kent will be distributing questionnaires regarding schedules, so please fill them out and turn them in, but also be aware that you may not always get the schedule you like, depending on the business needs."

"What about the computers?" one of the cashiers asked.

Sandy answered, "As I said, we'll be having classes to teach you how to use the new computers and cash registers. Who all has a computer at home?" Only a quarter of the people raised their hands. "Okay, you may have to be our temporary helpers in the training. If there are no more questions right now, I'll let you get back to your breakfast. If you have questions later, please let me or Kent know. Thank you for your attention."

As people started milling about, taking refills and extra food, Kent turned to Sandy and asked, "What will we do if no one wants to work late or on Sundays?"

"You schedule them as needed, Kent," Sandy said, sipping her coffee. "Part of your job as assistant store manager is to make the best use of our employees to cover the schedule as needed."

His hazel eyes worriedly swept the room as he ran a hand over his wavy ginger hair. "Sandy, most of the senior folks here have worked in the store their entire lives. I think I'm the only one who's been away, and I worked retail all through college. But I know these people, they are not going to be happy when they have to miss church suppers, their kids' games, or other activities."

Sandy turned gray-green eyes on him, quirking a smile. "Well, they'll have to learn, won't they? I'm counting on you to help make this transition as smooth as possible, but remember, we have hundreds of new people pouring in to town, so we're not the only business affected. Life will change drastically in the near future."

"Yeah, it will," he said unhappily. "I guess it's a good thing, though, since more people my age are thinking about staying rather than leaving. The family farms can't support everyone any longer. I'll get the surveys collected and preliminary schedules on your desk in the next day or two."

"Thanks, Kent." She watched as the athletic young man walked off, stopping to talk to different people. Let's hope we can pull this off.

Jimmy checked himself in the mirror, making sure his dark hair was perfectly combed before getting out of the truck. It was Friday night, and he was ready to pick Amanda up for their weekly date. He whistled a jaunty tune as he walked up to the door, ringing the bell with his usual flair. "Hi, is Amanda ready?" he asked as Albert Collins answered the door.

"Almost, come on in, James." Amanda's father ushered the young man to the sitting room. "How are your studies going?" he asked as they sat in opposite wing chairs.

Jimmy tried not to squirm as he fitted his body into the chair. I've got to start working out, he told himself sternly. I can't afford bigger clothes. "My studies are going well, Mr. Collins, thank you for asking. I have one more year before I graduate, and then I'll be on the church full time until Pastor Matthews feels I am ready to take over." Jimmy leaned forward, eager to bolster his stock in Mr. Collin's eyes. "In fact, I'll start preaching once a month, beginning two weeks from now."

"That sounds fine, James," Albert Collins said gravely, "I'm sure you'll do well. Amanda should be down shortly. By the way, once you finish your studies, will you earn enough to marry her?"

"Yes," Jimmy said a little uncertainly, "I think so." I hadn't really thought about it, he thought, a little panicked. "But she's working at the store, so I thought she should continue working until we could make it on my salary alone."

"You'd better start thinking about budgets. Amanda can help, she very good with numbers." If it wasn't for Brother Matthew's horror of educated women, I'd have sent her for a finance or accounting degree, he thought sourly, and Henry had no interest in college. "So, James, how are we going to start addressing the spiritual needs of the men working for the drilling companies?"

"Um, I've been by their offices a few times, left some of our flyers," Jimmy said, "and asked permission to talk to the men on their breaks."

"How did that go?" Albert asked blandly.

Jimmy forced himself not to squirm. "They were polite, but not many seemed interested," he admitted reluctantly. "But I'm working with a committee of some of the younger men in the church, thinking of ways to interest the newcomers."

"Fine plan," Albert said, inwardly groaning. These new men will have no interest in church whatsoever, he thought, if my brother the wildcatter is any example. "Ah, here's my princess," he said, smile creasing his handsome face as Amanda walked into the room.

"Good evening, Jimmy," she said, brown eyes roving over his snug white shirt and dark pants. "I hope I haven't kept you too long." She smoothed her long calico skirt over her legs as she perched on the edge of the couch. She fleetingly wished she could wear shorts and a sleeveless shirt like her friend Robin who she went to high school with. No, I have to go out in this heat with a long skirt and long sleeve blouse for modesty, she grumbled inside. "Dad, we'll be home well before curfew," she promised.

"You young people have a good time. What are you doing tonight?" he asked.

Jimmy answered, "My friend John's church is having a barbecue tonight, so he and Patsy invited us to attend. We should be back by 10:30."

Just then, Charlotte Collins entered the room. "I apologize for not being here when you arrived, James," she said in her soothing voice, "but I was on the phone with Mrs. Hibbitts. One of her daughters just gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, and I had to get the entire scoop. Are you getting ready to leave?"

"Yes, Mrs. Collins," Jimmy said, standing. "I was telling Mr. Collins that we're going to a barbecue at John's church."

"Have a good time. We'll see you when you get in," Charlotte said. She waited until the young couple had left, then asked Albert, "Do you really think that Jimmy and Amanda are a good match?"

Albert rubbed his chin thoughtfully, answering, "I'm not sure, Charlotte. I know that Jimmy is a good man, and will make a good preacher, but I'm not too convinced that he will be able to grow our church like Pastor Matthews has."

Charlotte and Albert walked back to the kitchen, starting decaf coffee and reaching for the cookie jar out of habit. They worked together well, born of long years of marriage, arranging the cookies, the cups, the carafe on the table. Once the coffee was ready, Albert made them each a cup, pouring the rest in the carafe as Charlotte held it steady. Albert sat down, taking a cookie and examining it as he turned over his thoughts. "Lottie," he said, "do you think I did the right thing by selling the store? Henry had no interest in running it, but I think Amanda could have, given a few years of training. Was I wrong to dismiss any idea of letting her run it because she is my daughter?"

Charlotte looked into her husband's dark brown eyes, so similar to his daughter's eyes, framing her reply. She took a bite of cookie, washing it down with coffee. "Bert, I grew up in this church, you married into it. I helped in the store out of necessity until Amanda was able to take over my job. I'd always thought women were supposed to stay home, or be directed by men, but like you, I'm not so sure now." She wrinkled her brow, thinking. "I don't think she would have been ready to run the store by herself, even in a few years, but I think she could have, eventually. But I confess, I was afraid of what Pastor Matthews would say if we'd sent her to college."

"True." Albert took another cookie, crunching it, pondering the questions had had. He swallowed, then added, "I'm not sure she's happy with Jimmy, either."

"Then do we give her permission not to marry him?" Charlotte asked. "I still believe that everyone needs to be married, but when she does, it should be for life. I'm conflicted, Bert, we've had a good marriage, Henry has a good wife, but I am not sure I can see her with Jimmy."

Albert considered another cookie, then decided not to take it. "Our generation still believed that if you dated, it was a courtship leading to marriage. Some of Henry and Amanda's friends, however, dated around several people settling down. Maybe it is better, remember how young Susan almost married Graham, but broke it off with him? Good think, he turned out to have a warrant out on him for kiting checks."

"You can't be too careful," Charlotte agreed. "Help me put this away, and I'll show you the benefits of marriage. They shouldn't be back for a few hours."

Albert grinned as he got up to help. He really liked the benefits of marriage, especially when they didn't have to be so quiet.

Amanda looked longingly at her friends Margaret Billings and Robin Miller, who were all wearing jeans, boots, and cute short sleeve sweaters. It must be nice to dress like that, she thought, instead of these stupid skirts and long sleeve shirts. At least I'll get to wear short sleeves to work soon.

"Why aren't you dancing with Jimmy?" Robin asked as she finished her cobbler. "If Eddy wasn't working, he'd be dancing with me."

"We're not allowed to dance," Amanda grumbled. "Pastor Matthews says it's a sin," she pronounced with an eye roll.

"But David danced before the Lord, so if King David could dance, why not you?" Robin asked, curious.

"Yes, but Herod's daughter Herodias come in and danced, only to ask for John the Baptist's head. So we can't dance."

Robin looked over at where Jimmy was animatedly talking to some other men. "Go ask him to dance, then maybe he'll pay attention to you. He brings you to our events, but then deserts you," she noted.

Amanda sighed. "He says he need to talk to other church leaders, see if they are getting any of the new people to attend," she noted sourly. "But he is supposed to be on a date with me," she added, a small flame of anger flickering.

"Go get him," Robin dared, "I'll ask Margaret to dance."

Amanda looked at her friend, then at her date, who was busy talking to others. She gathered her courage, and went over to him, tapping him on the shoulder as the music changed to a country song. "Care to dance?" she asked.

Jimmy's eyes grew wide at the suggestion. "Dance? Amanda, you know we're not supposed to dance," he stammered.

"Never mind, go back to your conversation then," Amanda groused, stalking off.

He caught up with her, turning her to face him. "What's going on with you? Why the sudden interest in dancing, Amanda? You know it is forbidden to us!"

She looked around at other couples dancing, motioning to them. "Jimmy, this is a church dinner, but they are having a dance. The lights are still up, if you hadn't noticed, and we are supposed to be on a date. That implies that you pay attention to me, but if you don't want to pay attention to me, I'm sure you wouldn't mind taking me home. Then you can come back and talk to your buddies as long as you like."

"It's still early, I can't take you home now." Jimmy hissed anxiously, hoping no one overheard her tirade.

"I'll call Dad, then, and have him pick me up," she hissed back at him, tired of being ignored.

Jimmy took her by the elbow, guiding her out into the hallway, where the noise level dropped dramatically. "Now tell me what's going on," he demanded.

Amanda looked at him, suddenly wondering why she had agreed to marry him. "Jimmy, do you love me?" she asked bluntly.

He blushed and looked confused. "What brought that up?"

"Do you love me, yes or no?" she persisted. "Do you want to spend your time with me? Do you want to discuss everything with me? Can you hardly wait to see me? Do you long to put your arms around me and kiss me senseless?"

"You are having evil thoughts," Jimmy said, eyes widening in shock, "we-"

"-are done," she concluded bitterly. "Jimmy, I don't love you like I should. I don't want to marry a man that I don't love, and it would not be fair to you for me to marry you under false pretenses. I'll give you your freedom, so you find a more suitable woman to marry."

"But what about my ministry?" Jimmy asked, stunned. "I expected you to help me with my ministry, my education."

She took his soft hand in hers, and said quietly, "You can still do all that, just not with me as your wife."

"But-"

Amanda shushed him with a finger to his lips. "There's other young women who would want the prestige of marrying a minister. After a short time, you should ask Danielle out."

"You're sure about this?" he asked anxiously.

"Positive," she replied.

"Okay," he said, "I'll take you home." He took her arm out of habit, leading her to the parking lot.

They drove down the road, stopping for a red light when she saw Sandy's truck at the new coffee shop. "Pull in there," she said impulsively.

"Huh?" he asked.

"To the new coffee shop, I see Sandy's truck, and I want to see if she's there. That way I won't be home too early," she explained.

Jimmy pulled in, letting her out and following her into the shop. She let her eyes adjust to the semi-lit room, relaxing as light guitar music wafted over them. "Sandy!" she called out as she spotted her manager. Sandy was sitting at a table by herself, reading. She looked up in surprise, recognized Amanda, then motioned her over. "Mind if I join you?" she asked.

Jimmy mumbled, "I'll see you in church," then bolted from the place.

"What's going on?" Sandy asked, grey-green eyes seeking out dark brown ones. "I thought you had a date."

"Yes, it was, and I did, but I broke up with Jimmy tonight," Amanda explained simply.

"Now I'm confused," Sandy said, marking the place in her book. "Want some coffee?" Amanda nodded, so Sandy went up to order another coffee, confused, but at the same time, happy for a chance to talk to her employee outside of work. She brought the coffee and a pastry over, set them on the table, turning her full attention to Amanda. "May I ask what happened?"

"Oh, Sandy, I just suddenly couldn't take it any longer," Amanda confessed, reaching for her mug, "I don't know what I'll do now, but I never felt anything for Jimmy, not really. I mean, we've been friends most of our lives, but I never really felt that spark for him. When I saw your truck, I decided to act on impulse and have him drop me off here."

"So how will you get home?" Sandy asked.

"I hadn't thought that far. I guess I'll go to the pay phone and call Dad and Mom," Amanda confessed.

"Except there is no pay phone here," Sandy pointed out, "but you could borrow my cell phone, or I could run you home later. I don't have any other plans tonight." She smiled at the younger woman. I like this spark in her, she thought, but I need to tread carefully. "So, what were you doing before your date ended?"

Amanda broke off a piece of pastry, eating it before answering, "We went to a barbecue and dance at John and Patsy's church. John and Jimmy have been friends since high school, and are attending seminary together. Anyway, John's church doesn't have a problem with dancing, so I asked Jimmy to dance and he freaked out."

"Okay, so wait, you're not allowed to dance?" Sandy asked, confused.

"Pastor Matthews says it's evil and leads to impure thoughts," she replied by rote.

"I see," Sandy said. "Now that you're a free woman, what are you going to do?" she asked.

Amanda paused, thinking hard. Finally, she answered, "I'm not sure, Sandy. Between work, church, and helping at home, I don't have much free time." She sipped her coffee, ducking her head as her fondest wish came to mind. "If I could, I'd go to college. I love to learn, but my church doesn't think women should get education beyond high school. We're not supposed to be better than our husbands."

"Is that so?" Sandy commented, raising an eyebrow. "I'd say that you don't have to worry about that right now, you're no longer dating or engaged. How old are you anyway?"

"I'll turn 21 next month," Amanda replied, "All of my friends my age from church and many of my friends from high school are already married, but we were waiting for Jimmy to graduate from seminary before we married. What about you? I don't even know if you're married or single."

Sandy wrapped long fingers around her empty mug, wondering how to answer. A version of the truth, she decided. "I've dated, but no one recently, so I'm single and enjoy it. I can do whatever I want, when I want." She cocked her head, considering, deciding to change the subject before Amanda asked too many questions. "I'm going into Lubbock next Friday for the arts walk Friday night. Interested?"

"What's an arts walk?" Amanda asked, puzzled.

"It's where you walk from gallery to gallery, looking at art," Sandy explained, "I used to do the Saturday gallery nights when I lived in Dallas. It's fun, we could get dinner, then do the galleries, or the other way around."

"Sounds like fun," Amanda said slowly, "would I be late coming home?"

"Probably make it before midnight," Sandy guessed. "I don't usually hang out with employees, but you just look like you need a break from Wheatley."

"I do," Amanda agreed. She looked at Sandy's outfit of chinos, polo shirt, and loafers, asking, "What do I wear?"

Her parents had raised their eyebrows a little at Amanda confessing that she broke up with Jimmy when she had walked in with Sandy that night, but nothing was really said. During the week, the tale had come out, but Albert and Charlotte supported their daughter in her decision to break up with Jimmy.

Others were not so understanding.

Mary and Brody were back in town to set up the network and computers in the store, and Brody asked Amanda to test his new curriculum. They sat in her office, as Brody booted up the desktop for the first time, crossing his fingers that Mary's crew had the network working. "Okay, Amanda," he said, "please switch chairs with me so you can log in. You'll have to come up with a good password with at least twelve characters, and have at least one number and a special character in it for security."

Amanda looked at the keyboard, glad that she at least knew how to type, but was puzzled. "What's a special character, Brody?"

"You know, something that's not a number or a letter. Just think of it as the characters you see when you do a shift number," he suggested. "And make it something you can remember, but not something easily guessed, like addresses, phone numbers, or birthdays."

"Oh." Amanda thought for a moment, looking around her office. She smiled, then typed in the SKU number of the small tool chest that sat in the corner. She had ordered them often enough, it was a great seller for young men's graduation or marriage gifts. She looked at the card where Brody had printed her network ID, then remembered to tab to the next box for the password. "Now what?" she asked after she signed in.

He was about to tell her to double-click on an icon, then stopped himself. "Your mouse has two buttons, a left button, and a right button. When I say double-click, I mean click the left one twice. When I say right-click, I mean click the right button once. So, take the mouse in hand and move it until you see the arrow over the picture that looks like a folder, then double-click it."

Amanda moved the mouse, following Brody's directions. She could feel the nervous sweat breaking out as she made sure she double-clicked with the correct button, happy to see the picture change and another screen open. "Now what?"

A few hours later, Brody and Mary met in Sandy's office to talk. "Amanda is catching on very quickly," Brody reported, "for someone who has never used a computer, she's doing extremely well. We went over the basics of how to use a computer, set up her email account, and started setting up her connections to our order system. She's damn smart, Sandy, caught on to how the order system ties into the accounting system, and figured out how to print a report. If everyone catches on this fast, my department's job will be easy."

Mary added, "All systems are go, my crew has installed all of the new wiring, all of the workstations, now we just need Brody's group to troubleshoot and start training. After talking with some of the younger employees, I don't think we'll have as much trouble as we thought, it's only the ones who attend Brother Matthew's church that have a thing against technology."

"Brody, when will you have people in here to teach classes?" Sandy asked.

He scratched his ginger goatee, looking at the ceiling as he mentally reviewed schedules. "This is Thursday, how about next Monday? I'll have Shelly call Kent to coordinate the actual schedules. I'm assuming the usual plan of classes during the last hour of their shift?"

"Yes, sounds good. If classes run over, I have permission to pay the overtime," Sandy confirmed. "Anything else?"

"No," Mary said, "but I'll have to leave tonight. My son Jacob has his last track meet Saturday morning, and I'd like to spend a few hours in my office tomorrow."

"Good enough. Thanks, guys," Sandy said, rising as they took their leave. She stretched her lanky frame, mentally reviewing her long punch list. Technology was about 75% complete, interior and exterior signage complete, bathrooms renovated, training in process, inventory in process. Kent reported that he had problems getting anyone to volunteer for the overnight inventory process. Even the younger men in the stock room pretty much refused to work overnight. Kent finally worked around it by scheduling extra early shifts for the people involved.

She left her office and went downstairs, wandering the main floor, answering questions, greeting regulars, talking to her employees. Sandy was more amused that irked when she'd answer a question, then have the person turn to the nearest man in the section to ask if that was true. As she walked through flooring, an older gentleman was asking about the newer types of wood flooring. Rob, the flooring specialist, turned to Sandy and asked, "Can you answer Vernon's question?"

"Hi, I'm Cassandra Marcus, store manager," Sandy said, holding out her hand to the older gentleman. "What may I help you with?"

The retired farmer looked at her suspiciously, slowly taking her hand to shake. "I was asking Rob here about these newfangled floors," he said, gesturing to the wood flooring section, "but he said he hasn't worked with them much yet."

Sandy smiled. "Then let me fill you in a bit. We have the traditional hard wood flooring that you need to nail or glue down, over an existing wood sub-flooring or new sub-flooring. It looks great, is long lasting, and can be refinished a number of times. But, it is also harder to put down and can warp from shifts in humidity if not cared for properly. Then we have laminate, which is created to look like real wood, but is easy to install over existing flooring by simply lining up the edges and clicking together. This is good for inexpensive replacement, but the drawback is it feels like laminate, not wood. You can also get some that glues down."

She pointed to each, then picked up a piece and handed it to Vernon. "This is my favorite, engineered hard wood. It's made of multiple layers, and has a real wood top, but is more durable and flexes better with changing humidity and shifting foundations. It looks better, feels like wood, but is more durable, and is easy to install. Just make sure you get the thicker underlayment layer if it is a high traffic area. Where are you installing the flooring?"

"You've laid this yourself?" Vernon asked, surprised.

"Yes sir," she answered, "My father owned a number of rent houses. I worked with him doing just about everything from the time I was old enough to use a paint brush, so I've replaced floors, run wiring, replaced plumbing, painted, replaced and resurfaced sheetrock, laid tile, shingled roofs, and replaced siding. I've also poured concerete and built brick and cinderblock planters and outdoor grills."

The older man looked at her with more respect. "Well, then, missy, I guess you can answer my question. I bought up several HUD houses years ago to rent out. I decided to rip out all the carpet, since most of it is old and threadbare, and was looking for a good looking but durable floor to put down in living rooms and bedrooms. So which would you suggest?"

Sandy discussed his options, then helped Rob figure several quotes on the new system. After Vernon left, Rob turned to Sandy and said, "You know, I had no idea that you knew so much about building and repairs. I thought you were just a manager."

"You'd be surprised what all I've done. I've worked for Collins since college, working in most of the departments before I became a manager. What's your background, Rob?" she asked.

"I worked my daddy's farm until five years ago, when he had to sell off most of his cattle. Mr. Collins hired me to work on the sales floor, and I've been here since," he explained.

Before she could ask anything else, another customer came up, so Sandy motioned for Rob to go help her. Sandy continued her circuit around the store, talking to customers and employees, answering questions about products and the new online systems. Until everyone could be trained, many of the employees were still figuring estimates on paper forms and calculators. We still have a long way to go, Sandy reminded herself.

Amanda came in from work Thursday afternoon, and went up to her room to change clothes. She switched her Jenkins polo and khaki skirt for a long-sleeved calico dress and sandels, then dashed back downstairs, hoping to find her mother alone. She was in luck.

"Good afternoon, Mom, how can I help?" Amanda asked as she tied up her light brown hair.

Her mother smiled at her, pointing to the fridge. "I'm making stew tonight, so you can cut up the leftovers in the bowls to get it ready. Do you want rolls or cornbread?"

"Rolls," Amanda said, eyes lighting up with delight. She started pulling out containers, lining everything up on the worn kitchen island, and grabbing a cutting board and knives. "Mom," she asked as she started cutting, "are you and Daddy unhappy that I broke up with Jimmy?"

"No, not really," Charlotte answered, "as much as we'd like to see you get married, we don't want you to be unhappy. Jimmy's a fine man, but he's not who you need." She stopped to haul out the Dutch oven, waiting for Amanda to finish cutting everything up. "Some of the ladies at church have been shocked at the news, but I told them that your father and I prayed about this, and it was the right thing for you to do."

"That's good to know," Amanda said, relieved. She brought over the ingredients, scraping everything from the cutting board to the pot, adding tomato paste and water. "Mom, you know that Sandy brought me home the other night."

"Yes, that was kind of her," Charlotte said as she took over the stew preparations.

Amanda started assembling ingredients for the rolls as she continued. "Well, she asked if I wanted to go to Lubbock with her tomorrow night to see art galleries and have dinner. Do you and Dad think I could do this?"

"And when did she ask you?" Charlotte asked, raising an eyebrow.

Amanda started mixing, mumbling, "Um, last Friday night. I've been trying to decide, and decided today that I really need to get out more. Wheatley isn't exactly a mecca for art, other than stained glass and cowboy art," she said.

"When would you get back?" Charlotte asked.

"Sandy said about midnight. It is an hour drive there and back," she pointed out.

"I'll ask your father when he gets home, but I suppose it would be fine." Charlotte stirred the stew, then set the lid on it. She turned on the oven to let it warm while Amanda finished pulling the dough out of the fridge. "How is work going?"

"Busy, but I like it," Amanda answered as she rolled out the dough and grabbed the cutter. "I'm learning to use computers, and I think this will make our accounts more accurate in the future. I can see why Jenkins uses them. Brody says I'm a natural at using them." She transferred the rolls to a pan, taking it to slide it into the oven. "There's some rumblings with older employees, not wanting to change their routines, but people my age or slightly older are a little more flexible."

Charlotte chuckled, saying, "I'd wager that many of them have forgotten the uproar when your father decided to keep the store open until six o'clock on Saturdays, rather than closing at noon. People got used to being able to come back and pick up another tool, more wood, and so on as they got stuck on Saturday chores. I'll tell you a secret."

"What?" Amanda asked.

Charlotte stirred the stew, adding beef broth and seasoning. "Pastor Matthews protested until our tithing went up. Then his tune changed to it was good for young people to be able to have a responsible job on weekends."

Amanda smiled as her mother moved aside so she could slide the pan into the oven. "So getting back to my question, Mom."

"I suppose it would be okay. You're almost twenty-one, and Miss Marcus seems pretty responsible."

Amanda kissed her mother's cheek. "Thanks! Oh, I talked to Robin for a few minutes today, and she asked if I could come over after dinner."

"That's fine. Is she going to pick you up, or do you need my car?"

"Since you're offering, I'll take your car," Amanda smiled.

"Done." Charlotte glanced at the clock. "Your father should be home from his haircut any time now."

"I'll start setting the table," Amanda said as she opened a cabinet door to grab the plates.

"So what size do you wear?" Robin asked as she ushered Amanda into her bedroom.

"I'm not really sure," Amanda confessed, "Mom makes my skirts, and I wear medium for the new shirts I have at the store. By the way, where's your roommate?"

"Karen is out with Ricky tonight, so we have the apartment to ourselves," Robin replied as she opened her closet door. "Hm, let's see what I have. So you really haven't worn pants or shorts ever?"

"Just gym shorts for PE, but Mom made those too," Amanda confessed. Robin pulled out several outfits and piled them on the bed. "Hey, at least I can wear sneakers! The church isn't that strict."

"Yup, so you say. All right, girlfriend, start trying stuff on," Robin ordered.

Amanda stuck her tongue out at her friend, then got down to the business of trying on clothes. It felt strange to slide the jeans up, snugger than the shorts she'd worn, but when she got them zipped, they felt good. She shook her head at a gauzy top, opting for pink linen tunic instead. She posed, but Robin shook her head no. Amanda sighed, and tried on the next few tops until Robin grinned. "So this works?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure does," Robin answered as she adjusted the collar. It was a green and white pinstriped oxford that looked great with dark jeans. "No, don't tuck it in, it looks fine out," Robin chastised her.

Amanda looked in the full length mirror on the back of Robin's door, surprised at how casual, comfortable, and modern she looked. "I like it. What should I wear with it?"

Robin cocked her head, surveying her friend, then snapped her fingers. She reached out to unbutton one button, then started rummaging through her jewelry box, finally coming out with a thin strand of multi-colored beads. "This should be perfect," she said, motioning for Amanda to duck. Robin fastened the necklace, surveying her handiwork. "Too bad you aren't allowed to wear makeup, we could really make your eyes stand out."

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend right now," Amanda pointed out.

"Ah, but there will be men there, no?" Robin countered playfully. "Listen, just because there's no fish in this little puddle you like doesn't mean there aren't fish in a bigger puddle." She smiled. "You should really wear this outfit. Would your parents have kittens if you took it home to wear?"

"I'm not sure," Amanda said slowly, "but I could ask Sandy to swing by here to let me change clothes. Or will you be here tomorrow night?"

"Noah's not working tomorrow night, so we'll be out, but I'm sure Karen won't mind if you take the spare key. Robin handed her a key on a small ring with a rabbit's foot on it. "I'll tell her when she gets home tonight. You know, as much as I adore my folks, I'm sure glad I'm not living at home. Think your folks would let you move out, now that you're not engaged any longer?"

Amanda started changing back to her normal clothes as she thought about it. "It hasn't come up, but Pastor Matthews doesn't like single women to live alone. He says it looks like they're inviting men to take advantage of them."

Robin rolled her eyes. "So why doesn't he tell the young men of the church hands off until marriage? Why put it all on the women? Don't the men get to live away from their parents after high school?"

"Yes, but-" Amanda stopped, thinking about it. "You're right, it's not fair. So far, I'm giving my parents money for rent, and saving most of the rest of it. I wonder if I could afford to live on my own?"

Robin smiled secretively. "Or, live with a roommate. I have a feeling that Ricky will ask Karen to marry him any day now, so I'd be looking for a new roommate."

"I hadn't thought of that," Amanda said, looking wonderingly at her friend. "Robin, you really think you'd want me to move in?"

"We could talk about it when Karen lets me know one way or the other," Robin said, "and I think it would be a very good thing for you. Get you some independence, learn to live on your own before you marry." She started hanging clothes back up, adding, "Hey, you could even think about taking online courses. This complex has internet connection, all you'd need is a computer."

Amanda hugged Robin briefly. "I'll think about it. Thanks, sweetie." She glanced at her watch. "Must run."

"Okay, I'll call you at work tomorrow and let you know. Goodnight, Amanda."

"Goodnight, Robin." Amanda dropped the key in her purse, then went scurrying down to her mother's car. She should make it back home just in time.

Sandy was amused at the subterfuge that Amanda used in order to dress in jeans instead of a skirt. She recognized, however, that it was funny and serious at the same time, since it was a matter of Amanda's religious beliefs. Sandy had only attended services a few times a year since college, usually on major holidays, and only if she could get back home to go to church with her dad. Her mother, bless her soul, had passed on nearly five years ago. At least with my crazy schedule no one has asked me to attend any church yet, she thought as she pulled in front of Amanda's house.

Introductions were made, and after a few minutes, the women left to go to Robin's apartment so Amanda could change clothes. "What would have happened if you'd simply changed clothes at home?" Sandy called through the closed bedroom door.

Amanda came out, shyly smoothing down her shirt tail. "Well, I don't know, but I would have been disobeying Pastor Matthews. I guess I still am, but this way, no one should know. What are we doing first?"

Sandy smiled, dimples showing as she followed Amanda out of the apartment. "I thought we'd go into Lubbock and eat, then go to the galleries. It's Friday, so we may have a bit of a wait, unless you'd like to try to call in a reservation before we get there."

Amanda hopped into the truck, fastening her seatbelt before answering, "How would I do that?"

"I forget, you don't have a cell phone." Sandy pulled out of the parking lot. "We'll get out of town and then pull over and I'll call."

Amanda watched as Sandy pulled her phone out of her pocket, resting it in one of the cup holders. "If you'll tell me what to do, I'll call," she said bravely. Sandy told her the code, talking her through how to find the phone number via the browser search. "Oh, wow, this is cool!" Amanda said excitedly. She tapped the phone number for the restaurant, waiting for it to connect. "Yes, hello, I'd like to reserve a table for a party of two, please," she said, pulling out her official work voice, "under the name of Sandy Marcus. Yes, how long is the wait?" She listened, then mouthed ETA? Sandy answered, and Amanda relayed," Yes, an hour will be fine, we should be there in 45 minutes. Thank you." She looked at the phone, whispering, "How do I hang up?"

"Tap the red icon," Sandy answered, bemused. "Stick with me, you'll learn a lot. So, what kind of Italian food do you like?"

"I'm not sure," Amanda confessed. "We don't go out to eat often, other than the diner or the church for special events." she mused. "And with all the new people moving into town, we've gotten big enough to have a Walmart and a dollar store!"

Sandy chuckled at Amanda's droll delivery. "That is huge," she agreed. "So tell me more about yourself and about Wheatley."

"Yes. Well, it close to 5,000 until the 1980's and the oil bust. The population dropped nearly in half, but with the renewed drilling activity, the town should get closer to 10,000 within a few years." She thought a moment, then asked, "So where do you live? I never thought about asking. Or is that rude?"

"Nope, I don't mind answering. I just moved into the little house behind Trish and Tim Cowles house. I'd been living at a hotel until I could find a place to rent," Sandy answered.

"Oh. Trish was a few years ahead of me in school, but I knew who she was. Her parents go to the Baptist church," Amanda said.

As Sandy drove on, they exchanged bits and pieces of history. Amanda filled her in on the town, the power structure, and the different churches. Sandy talked to Amanda about how the company was run, what was expected, and how she got into store management. "I'd worked in most departments, and had my BBA in management, so I kept applying for promotions, and pretty soon I was a store manager. Okay, here's our destination," she announced as she pulled into the parking lot.

After a brief wait, they were seated, and the waiter brought over a loaf of bread with their drinks. "I'm curious," Sandy asked as she reached to cut a slice of bread, "why aren't women supposed to go to college in your church? Or is that a rude question?"

Amanda sipped her iced tea, thinking. "It has to do with women not supposed to teach men, and to not be better than men, I think," she answered, "but to be honest, I've wondered if it's not just that Pastor Matthews didn't believe in women getting an education."

Sandy asked, "So, if you had the chance, would you have gone to college?"

"To be honest, it was never an option for me, but I think I would have enjoyed it. Dad went to college for a few years, but quit to take over the store when he and Mom married. My brother, Henry, never had any interest in going to college or working in the store. He's happy working construction."

"I see." They ate quietly for a few minutes, rapidly clearing their plates. "So, are you interested in dessert?" Sandy asked.

"No, I'm full," Amanda said. Sandy signalled for the check, and after a brief argument, paid for both meals. "I make my own money," Amanda protested.

"Yes, but I asked you to come. Ready?" Sandy asked with a smile.

As they walked through the art galleries, Amanda was amazed, shocked, and confused in turn by what was called art. Sandy answered her questions, and she suddenly started seeing what different pieces represented, not just what they looked like. As they walked into one gallery, she was taken with a painting that faced the entrance. "I like this, and don't know why," she said, staring at the large painting.

Sandy looked at the painting, smiling. It suggested a beach, with creamy sand, deep blue sky, green-blue water, and smudges of high white clouds. A lone figure was walking along, head down, hands in pockets, not clearly a man or a woman. "What does it make you feel?" she asked.

Amanda approached the painting, studying it from different angles. "I'm don't know," she said slowly, "but the figure looks so lonely, so downcast, but not even seeing the beauty of the water. Is that the ocean?"

"Probably."

"I've never seen the ocean, just the few lakes around here," Amanda mused. "If the person would just look up, they'd see God's beauty in the water and the sky." She frowned, approaching closer. "Wow, you can see the individual swirls of color up close, but they blend from further back." She glanced at the small card pinned on the wall. "They want $10,000 for this?"

"Welcome to the world of art," Sandy said. "They may or may not get it, but that painting could represent anything from a few weeks to a few years of work to get it just right."

"I see." Amanda kept staring at the painting, shifting her focus from the figure to the sky, to the beach, to the ocean. "It is so empty, yet so full." She looked at Sandy, adding softly, "I can relate. My life is full, yet I feel empty." She reached up to rub her eyes, embarrassed by the sudden tears.

"The painting really affects you," Sandy observed, laying a hand on Amanda's shoulder.

Amanda nodded, unable to talk. The loneliness of the figure pierced her heart, touching an emptiness that she had not acknowledged before. A place that was supposed to be filled with church, family, marriage, children, but was empty. She turned to Sandy and whispered, "Can we leave?"

"Yes," Sandy said, wrapping an arm around Amanda's shoulders, guiding her out of the building. They walked in silence back to the truck, Amanda gulping hard to keep from weeping. "Did you want to go anywhere else?" Sandy asked quietly as she unlocked the truck.

"No, thank you," Amanda managed to get out. "Just take me back to Robin's apartment." She climbed in the truck, overwhelmed with a confusion of feelings and impressions. It was as if her eyes had been opened after years of darkness, more questions flooding her soul. Why can't I wear pants? Why not go to college? Why can't I move out now instead of having to get married first? she wondered.

"We're here," Sandy said as she pulled into the apartment parking lot. "Do you want me to go up with you, or wait down here?"

Amanda pulled her thoughts together, looking around. "I guess stay here, I see Robin's car. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Sandy nodded, letting the window down before shutting off the engine. I wish I could afford some of the art we saw, she thought as she watched Amanda run up the stairs. She thought about Amanda's face at the last gallery. That painting really affected her. I had no idea she was so lonely. I wish I could do something about it, but I'm her manager, and she's much younger than I am. She restarted the truck when she saw Amanda trotting back down the stairs.

"We should just make curfew," Amanda announced as she climbed back into the truck. "I had a wonderful time, Sandy. I had no idea that looking at art could be so fun." She fell silent during the short drive to her house, then looked at Sandy as the truck stopped. "Thank you so much," she said, reaching over to squeeze Sandy's hand briefly. "I'll see you Monday at work."

"I had a good time too, Amanda," Sandy said, squeezing back before dropping the other woman's hand. "Thanks for going with me." She watched as Amanda trotted up the sidewalk, waiting until she saw her go into the house before pulling away from the curb. "I had a wonderful time too," she repeated to herself.

Kent stretched his six foot frame before settling into his chair and booting up his computer. He was grateful for computers, trying to do everything on paper had been a royal pain, as well as terribly inefficient. Well, the schedules had been pretty much set in stone, so that wasn't a pain, but otherwise, it had been. He logged in and checked his email and calendar first before checking the workflow for orders that Amanda had forwarded for approval.

He was deep into paperwork when Ryan Wilcox came in, steaming mad. "Hamilton, I want a word with you," the older man growled, "just what the hell do you mean scheduling me for Sunday afternoon? I don't work weekends, never have, never will!"

Kent had been anticipating this outburst since he posted the schedule, so he wasn't surprised. "Ryan, sales figures show that our highest demand for plumbing is Sunday afternoon, so I wanted my most experienced associate then. You had your own plumbing business for many years, right?"

"Yes, and I've worked here for nigh on ten years, and Mr. Collins never opened the store on Sunday. What the hell makes you think you can make me work then?" Ryan spluttered angrily.

"I'm in charge of scheduling, Ryan, and Jenkins deems that the store is open on Sundays." He wished for a moment that Sandy was handling this, but he knew he had to learn. Besides, she was in Amarillo for a regional meeting today. "Besides, you'd asked for Thursday and Friday off so you could watch your grandsons play baseball, so I had to schedule you for five days somehow."

Ryan crossed his beefy arms, snorting. "But why not someone else? I'd a worked two Saturdays."

"Ryan, I know how we used to run the store, but it's changed now," Kent explained calmly, "and I have to juggle everyone's schedules plus have the most people working when we are busiest."

"Humph. Your daddy sent you off for a fancy degree, and now you think you're better than the rest of us. I won't work Sundays, I tell you," Ryan huffed.

Kent stifled a groan. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Ryan, but company policy dictates that we have the most coverage when sales are highest."

"What if I refuse to come in?" Ryan challenged, eyes blazing.

"Then I'd have to mark you down with an unauthorized absence, and it would go in your personnel file. Three unauthorized absences and you're automatically terminated," Kent explained calmly. "It's all in the employee handbook that we passed out when the store changed hands."

"So what? You think you can fire me?" Ryan demanded.

Kent nodded slowly. "I'd hate to, but if it came to it, I would. I'd rather work with you, Ryan, you now more about plumbing than anyone else. In fact," he said, inspiration striking, "other stores have Saturday morning classes to teach people how to do things themselves. We need someone for some of the plumbing classes, and I'd really like to have you lead the classes. Would you consider it?"

Ryan rubbed his grizzled chin, thinking. "I'll ponder it, young man. I'm not making no promises, but I'll think it over."

"Let me know by the end of the day so I can work it into the schedule." He mentally reviewed his overtime budget, deciding that a few hours wouldn't hurt. "In fact, if you want to do it on top of your work week, you can get overtime pay."

Ryan's eyes widened. "Well, why didn't you say so? I'd be happy to teach the classes. Are we talking children, teens, young men?"

"Anyone who is interested in signing up," Kent said, making a note to have Amanda check into arrangements. "Thanks for dropping by."

"Glad to do it," Ryan said as he stood up, offering a massive hand. Kent shook, then escorted him out of the office. Crisis temporarily averted, he thought, relieved.

Kent went back to his paperwork, trying to finish checking off tasks before he went out to the floor. He enjoyed his job, but this growing issue of employees challenging their hours was starting to wear on him. In just the past few days, he'd had to talk down five different people who where complaining about their work shifts. Mostly older men, he mused, I would have thought it was the younger women, the ones with kids or just married. But they are the ones eager for any work.

"How goes it? Have a moment to chat?" Sandy asked, sticking her head through the door frame.

"Yeah, I'm glad to give you a few minutes," Kent said, relieved.

"What's going on, Kent? You sound stressed," she said, handing him a mug of coffee as she sat down.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, grateful for both the coffee and the break. "Where do you get this? It's way better than what we serve," he said, sipping the delicious brew.

"My own private special order stash," Sandy said, smiling. "A bit pricy and indulgent, but too good to resist. So, tell me what's going on."

Kent took another sip, then raised his eyebrows. Sandy caught the message and closed the door, then sat back down, waiting for him to start. He thought of several opening lines, then finally blurted out, "We're getting a lot of flack for the new hours and new work shifts. I just had Ryan Wilcox in here, all puffed up because I dared to schedule him on Sunday afternoon. I had to finally give him one of the class times with overtime to settle him down."

"Ah." Sandy sipped, crossing one lanky leg over another. "I've been getting some negative feedback as well, but I've also had a uptick in applications. I know you have to live with these people, but we need to put out a subtle reminder that if they refuse to work their schedules, they can and will be replaced." She scratched her head, thinking. "Say, what about that new grocery store? Do you know anyone in management there?"

"Yes, a buddy of mine from school, why?" Kent asked.

"They are open even longer hours than we are, with mostly local employees. Talk to your buddy and see what he or she is doing," Sandy suggested.

Kent turned his mug around, looking at the Jenkins logo on sides. "It's an idea," he said slowly, "but some of it is that we have more employees from Pastor Matthews' church, and he's pushing hard on the message that you don't work on the Sabbath, and you don't work late at night."

"I don't want to pick a fight with a preacher, but he needs to back off," Sandy said frankly. "His people don't work, they can't pay his salary. How do you feel about it, Kent?"

"Between you and me?" Kent asked, waiting for Sandy to nod. "I'd be happy to work Sunday mornings so I could skip services. He's too old-fashioned for my tastes, and I'd frankly be happier at a different church, but since my entire family attends there, I can't change."

"Can't or won't?" Sandy asked, curious.

"Did you grow up in a small town?" Kent asked.

"No," she said, "I grew up in a large town."

Kent took another gulp. "Then you don't understand the dynamics. I managed to get away and go to college, but Dad pulled strings to get me back here. My family has farmed here for nearly seventy years, and since he knew that my brother was willing to take over the farm, Dad pulled strings to get Mr. Collins to hire me so I could stay in Wheatley. I love working here, but-" He stopped, unable to complete his sentence.

Sandy stared at him, letting the silence stretch for a minute before asking, "Will you be able to handle the complaints?"

Kent raked fingers through his red hair. "Yeah, Sandy, I'll handle it. Thanks for listening."

"Any time, Kent. You'll do fine." Sandy stood, preparing to leave. "I'm counting on you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Kent said. He watched her leave, then bent back to the ever-growing to-do list.

Amanda sat only half-listening to the Sunday evening sermon as her mind kept wandering to her evening with Sandy. That painting was so haunting, she thought, and the whole evening was so fun. I wonder if we can do something again? She tuned in long enough to catch the gist of the sermon, then let her mind wander again. Robin said that Karen is moving out soon, and asked if I wanted to move in. Should I? What would the pastor say? She reined in her thoughts as Pastor Matthews started winding up his sermon. Why should women be more tempted by living away from their parents than men? In fact, why are women considered so evil?

As she started to leave with her parents, Jimmy sidled up to her and took her arm. "Amanda, may I have a word with you?" he asked stiffly.

Her parents looked at her questioningly. She turned to them and said, "I'll be along in a moment." Turning back to Jimmy, she asked, "What do you need to say?"

He looked around uneasily, aware that people were passing them, and that it would be unseemly to take her to his office so they could speak privately. Instead, he guided her back into the chapel, and motioned for her to sit on a pew. "You've had a month to reevaluate your decision to call off our engagement. Will you reconsider and marry me?"

"No," she blurted out. Seeing his crestfallen face, she hastened to add, "Jimmy, I care about you as a friend, but I don't love you. Why can't you accept that and get on with your life?"

"Because I do love you," he declared, "and I'm not going to give up so easily. Will you give me another chance?"

It would be so easy to say yes, but so wrong, she thought. Amanda cleared her throat and said, "I'm not cut out to be a preacher's wife, so be thankful that I'm sparing us both future heartache."

"But I don't want just anyone, I want you, Amanda. Who else would put up with me? Who else would help me edit my papers?" he asked forlornly.

"James," Amanda said formally, "I'm sorry I hurt you, but I want to have the kind of deep, abiding love that my parents have, and I just don't feel that for you. Please do us both a favor and accept my decision."

He sighed, letting go of her arm. "I tried, Amanda, I really tried. Was I not romantic enough? Should I have danced with you, even though we don't believe in it?"

"No, you shouldn't go against your beliefs," she said, "and looking back, even if you had been more romantic, I don't think I'd be in love with you."

Resigned, he turned and started walking toward the door. She walked behind him, hoping that he understood. It bothered her somewhat that she had to turn him down repeatedly, but he just wasn't right for her.

"Ready to go, honey?" her mother asked as she exited the chapel doors.

"Yes," she said.

"Bert, what are we doing to do with Amanda?" Charlotte asked her husband the next morning, after their daughter had gone to work.

He poured the coffee and brought the mugs over to the breakfast table, setting them down carefully before sitting down. "I've been thinking about it, Lottie. I know that the church thinks that young women should stay at home until they marry, but suppose she never marries? What then? We were planning to start traveling as soon as Amanda left home, since we have plenty of money and nothing to tie us down. Should we encourage her to move out?"

"I don't know," Charlotte said slowly, "but I had thought that she would be out by now, not still living with us."

"Didn't Amanda say something about her friend Robin's roommate moving out?" Albert asked as he shook pepper on his eggs and hash browns.

"Yes, Karen is getting married this weekend, and has already moved almost everything to Ricky's house. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes, I believe so. Amanda has a good head on her shoulders, has a good job, and I know she's a very good worker, quite mature for her age." He reached for the jam, spreading some on his biscuit. "Frankly, I liked James, but never quite saw him as a good match for Amanda."

"You too?" Charlotte asked as she reached for the jam. "I'm relieved. I am getting a little tired of some of the women in my quilting circle going on about poor Jimmy, and wondering why Amanda would pass him by." She spread the jam on her biscuit, making swirls in the jam as she continued to ponder the subject. "Albert, do you think that maybe Pastor Matthews is wrong about some things?"

"I never thought he was infallible," Albert replied, "I respect him, but I grew up understanding that God used imperfect people to preach his gospel, and that preachers could get the message wrong. So, back to our daughter. Do we encourage her to move out? It would be perfect for her to move in with Robin, so she would not be alone, and Robin lives in a good part of town. Now for a change of subject: how about going with me to the travel agency and looking for a long vacation? You know, that anniversary gift we promised ourselves?"

She smiled in return. "That sounds lovely, Bert. Yes, let's do it!"

Amanda found that she enjoyed having a varied schedule. It wasn't as varied as people on the sales floor, but she did work some early shifts and some later shifts during the week, with occasional Saturdays. She was working on a Saturday morning when her friend Robin came by, looking for her.

Kent brought Robin up, knocking on Amanda's doorway. "Hey, look who I found wandering the store," he teased, "think you recognize her?"

"Kent, you're terrible," Amanda laughed, "come on in, Robin. What's up?"

Robin stole a peppermint from Amanda's desk and unwrapped it as she answered, "Karen finished moving out this week, so I either find a new roommate or move back home, since I can't afford the apartment all by myself. What do you think? Want to move in with me?"

"What do I think?" she echoed, turning it over in her mind. Mom and Dad hinted this week that it would be fine if I wanted to move out. "What would I have to do? I mean, do I need to sign a lease or anything? What are the bills like?"

"We'd just go to the office and swap Karen's name for yours. This is a bargain, the rent includes electricity, water, basic cable, basic internet. You can either share my phone line or get yourself a cell phone." Robin handed over a folder. "I know you, you love details, so here's the monthly breakdown. Karen and I usually bought groceries together and cooked together about half the time, so it made it more economical."

Amanda took the folder, skimming the expenses listed. She grabbed the calculator off her desk and ran some quick figures, then laid the folder down. "I think I could swing this," she said. "How soon would you need me to move in?"

Robin grinned. "As soon as possible! Seriously, I can meet you at the complex office Monday at lunch, and we can sign the paperwork then. After that, it's whenever you want to start moving."

Amanda turned to her computer, bringing up the calendar. "I could do that," she said, "and what's better, I have Tuesday off. If I can get Dad to help, I could start moving in the morning."

"Fantastic!" Robin pumped her fist in the air. "This will be great, two single girls. Just like a TV show or something."

"Single?"

Robin laughed. "In a matter of speaking. I'm dating, but no ring on my finger, so technically I'm still single. It will be great, I promise." She glanced at her watch. "I have to boogie, girlfriend, I'm meeting Margaret for brunch. Call me tonight."

"Will do." Amanda watched her friend bounce out of the office, trying to remember exactly what she had been doing. Right, run the order report for the week, she reminded herself as she turned to her computer. She was rather proud that she was able to do most things without help now.

A few hours later, Sandy ambled in to her office. "Hey, Amanda, how's it going?" the store manager asked.

"Great," Amanda said, reaching behind her for the printouts. "I just finished the reports for the Monday morning meeting."

Sandy took the copy that Amanda handed her, glancing through, looking for anomalies. "Sales are good," she commented as she glanced through, "but I want your take. Anything changed for good or bad since the store changed hands?"

Amanda leaned back, twirling a lock of light brown hair as she thought. "Well," she said slowly, "a few categories stand out. First, there's the uptick in supplies like paint, flooring, bathroom and kitchen fixtures, all consistent with people upgrading rent houses. The category that I didn't expect is fencing. Traditionally yards have been pretty open in Wheatley, but with so many new people in town, I think there's a fear of people you don't know in your property, so more fences are being put in. Oh, and new door locks."

"Hm." Sandy handed the reports back. "How are things with you? I haven't really seen you since we went to Lubbock."

"I'm doing fine, in fact, I think I'll move in with Robin next week. Karen got married, so she has an empty bedroom in her apartment now."

Sandy was a bit surprised, but hid it. "Sounds like a good idea. What day would you move?"

"Tuesday, it's my next day off. I'll get my folks to help. Really, I don't have much to move, just my bedroom furniture and my clothes. Robin has living room furniture and dishes and stuff, so I don't need any of that."

"I'm off Tuesday, will you need any help?" Sandy found herself offering. "I have a truck, you know."

"I don't know, but I can call you here tomorrow."

"Why not call my cell phone? You have the number," Sandy pointed out.

Amanda looked puzzled. "You have a New Mexico number, that would be long distance."

"Oh." Sandy mentally kicked herself, forgetting that only a quarter of the people in town had cell phones. "True. Or, I could drop by your house tonight after supper, see if you need help packing."

"That would be cool," Amanda said excitedly. "About seven? We'd be done with supper by then."

"Sound good," Sandy said as she reluctantly got up. "See you tonight." As she went back to her own office, she wondered, Why did I offer my help? Oh well, she's a good kid, and a great employee. That must be why.

Amanda didn't quite know what to expect when she moved. She didn't have much to pack, mostly clothes, linens, her bedroom furniture, her guitar, and a few keepsakes. Robin already had plates, silverware, and cookware, so she didn't need anything for the kitchen.

Sandy came over with her truck, and within a few hours, everything was moved. Charlotte and Albert had just left the apartment after surprising Amanda by turning over the keys to his truck to her, explaining, "I've wanted a new truck, so this is the perfect excuse to buy one."

Robin looked around as Amanda unpacked the last box. "Wow, you don't really have much, do you?"

"No, I never was one to buy a bunch of junk," Amanda said as she carted the empty box into the living room, where Sandy was busy breaking down the other empty boxes. "It was also a very good excuse to throw out some stuff."

"Hey, Robin, where should I take these boxes?" Sandy asked as she poked her head in the room.

"I'll show you, we have a brand new recycling dumpster around the corner," Robin answered. "Amanda, I'll be back in a few minutes."

"All right," Amanda said. As the other two left with the boxes, she drifted around, rearranging a few items here and there. The enormity of the move was starting to settle on her. She had moved so fast that she hadn't talked to Robin about cleaning, meals, or sharing the living room. She had been friends with Robin since junior high, but that was different than living with someone. She looked around the room, noting with amusement that she had the bed, dresser, chest of drawers, desk, and bookcase arranged the same way she had at home.

Robin poked her head in, knocking lightly at the door. "Hey, want to invite Sandy for supper? I have enough for three, although we'll need to go to the grocery store tomorrow."

"Um, sure," Amanda said, a little bewildered. I guess it would be right, since she helped me move, she thought. "What do I need to do to help?"

"I won't make you cook tonight. Just set the table and see what Sandy want to drink, tea, water, or coke."

"What kind of coke do we have?" she asked.

"Diet coke, regular Dr Pepper, diet root beer, and some generic black cherry soda," Robin answered. "I'd have to make some tea, but it wouldn't take long. Just let me know, I'm heading back to the kitchen. Tell Sandy that chili cheese dogs and chips are on the menu."

"Fine with me," Amanda said. Robin left, and Amanda pulled out the sheets to start making the bed. Sandy walked in as Robin left. Amanda looked up and asked, "Do you want to stay for dinner? Chili cheese dogs and chips. Tasty, filling, cheap."

"That would be great," Sandy agreed, "need some help making the bed?"

"Sure," Amanda said, tossing the fitted sheet out. "It will make it go faster. Oh, what do you want to drink?"

"Anything, really, Dr Pepper if you have it," Sandy answered, grabbing a corner and fitting it over the mattress. "Did we get everything out of my truck?"

"I think so," Amanda said. She finished with the fitted sheet and pulled out the flat sheet, snapping it out. "Sandy, I never dreamed I'd be moving out with anyone other than a husband," she confessed. "It feels a little weird."

"You'll do fine," Sandy reassured her, "I moved out when I went to college, and I did fine. You'll feel disoriented for a bit, but since you're not also moving to an entirely new town and situation, that should help."

"I guess so. Am I doing the right thing?" Amanda asked, suddenly anxious.

Sandy caught a pillowcase, fitting it over a pillow. "I think you are, Amanda. You're 21 next week?" The other woman nodded. "Then it's time."

Amanda surveyed the bed once they'd added a cover and pillows. "That should be it. I've already put away the towels and hung up my clothes. Let's go see how Robin is doing."

"Sounds good," Sandy agreed. She followed the young woman to the small kitchen just as Robin was turning off the burners. "Hey, Robin, thanks for the dinner invite. Can I help with anything?"

The dark haired roommate answered, "You can put ice in the glasses. Amanda, the cans are on the second shelf of the pantry. Sandy, it's build your own tonight. Buns on the counter, chips on the table, wieners, chili and cheese on the stove. Help yourself."

After they'd dressed their hot dogs and offered thanks, Sandy asked, "Robin, is anyone planning something for Amanda's birthday?"

Robin looked at her new roommate, smiling. "I talked to some of our friends from high school. We were thinking dinner out, maybe at the new steakhouse in town. Want to join us?"

"Sure," Sandy agreed easily, "that is, if you'd like for me to, Amanda."

"I'd love for you to," Amanda said, reaching for the chip bag. "But y'all don't have to take me out for steak! That's too extravagant."

Robin grinned. "You only turn 21 once, girlfriend, and we might as well make it a good one. Besides, it's a great excuse for a party!"

Amanda felt a little embarrassed and shy about having her friends make a big fuss about her birthday. Her church had taught that birthdays were to be celebrated with family, but with little fanfare, and knowing Robin, there would be fanfare.

Amanda felt like more and more changes were on the horizon as the week slipped by. Her birthday was on Thursday, which was fine since she was not working on Friday, so she could stay out a little later. She shook her head to clear errant thoughts, trying to concentrate on completing the order form. She was still getting the hang of using computers and web forms, sometimes accidentally losing orders before finding how to complete them. Brody or others in his department were very patient with her, assuring her that she was really doing quite well for someone with no computer experience.

Kent dropped in just as she had completed the batch of orders for the day. "Good afternoon, Amanda," he said, "how's the transition going?"

"I think fine," she said, remembering to print her confirmations before logging out of the vendor's site. "How are things for you?"

He waggled his hand back and forth. "Eh, could be better, could be worse." He stopped, searching her face. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Of course," she said, wondering what she had done wrong.

He got up and shut the door before continuing. "We both grew up here, both attended the same church. So why is it that we can see that sometimes you have to bend and others don't? I mean, I'm doing my best to not schedule people on Sundays unless necessary, but we really need more cashiers and associates on Sunday. I've also been catching flack from some parents of some of our high school girls who work until closing. We generally get out by 9:30, and I always have a manager or assistant manager on duty to escort employees to their cars."

She thought a moment, having heard a few rumblings herself. "Well," she said slowly, "Dad never did open on Sundays, never stayed open late, and I think some of our people are still in shock. You've worked other places before you came back home, how did they handle this?"

Kent raked strong fingers through red hair, making it stand on end for a moment. "The two stores I worked in during college would have fired people for refusing to take their assigned shifts. Sandy's starting to get some pressure from the district to get our employees in line, and to stay open the usual Jenkins hours, which would include Sunday mornings and being open until ten at night."

"She didn't mention that to me," Amanda said, feeling for her store manager.

"I don't think she wanted to upset you," Kent admitted. "Any ideas on this? I know you don't work with scheduling, and you've never complained about your schedule."

"Well, I grew up watching Dad and Mom bring work home, and recognize that sometimes you have to do what it takes to get the job done," she said.

"I appreciate that attitude, Amanda," Kent said. "I think part of the problem is that Pastor Matthews and some of his generation can't see the changes that are happening. Or they don't want to admit there are changes. Wheatley is becoming a boom town, whether they like it or not, and the character is changing. The population is booming, and a lot of the new folks aren't willing to let anyone tell them what to do."

Amanda shrugged. "Kent, it's hard to serve God and to serve commerce, but we have to find a balance." She hesitated, then admitted, "I'm getting some flack from some of the older women at church for moving in with Robin. She's been on her on her own since she went to work for Dr. Keller as his dental hygienist."

"I forgot that young women in our church are supposed to stay home until they marry." Kent raked his fingers through his hair again, then tried to smooth it back down. "You know, I used to believe that before I went to college, but now I don't. I've studied the Bible, and between you and me, Pastor Matthews and I don't agree on how to read the Bible."

"Really?" Amanda asked, curious.

"Yeah. There's too many contradictions to take it literally, but I think there is truth there," he said, groping for the right words. "In fact, I went to a study at the church where I attended during college, and they said that a lot of the Bible was written years or even centuries after the events described." He stood up, glancing at the wall clock. "I need to get back to work. I'll see you around."

"All right, Kent, see you later." Amanda watched as he left, pondering their conversation, wondering if she could come up with a solution to the scheduling issue. It's not my problem, she reminded herself.

"Happy birthday, Amanda!" Robin squealed when Amanda got home that afternoon. She enthusiastically hugged Amanda, dancing her around the living room. "We're gonna party, girlfriend! Go get showered and dressed, I've already laid out your clothes on your bed."

"Thanks, I think," Amanda said as she extricated herself from Robin's grip. "Give me a few minutes, I'll be ready." She went to her room, dropping her purse on her bed, then looking at the outfit that Robin picked out. "Oh, mercy," she whispered, unsure if she loved it or was appalled by it.

Bright salmon crop pants, a white v-necked tunic, trendy sandals. Amanda looked at it all uneasily, then decided the heck with it. She blushed when she lifted the tunic and found hip hugger panties and a lacy bra. "Oh, Lord," she breathed, blushing harder. "I guess it's this or find something else right quick, and I haven't done laundry this week," she muttered under her breath.

Amanda came out of her room a little while later, freshly showered and dressed, and surprised to see Sandy on the couch, talking to Robin. "I invited Sandy when you moved in," Robin reminded her, "everyone else will meet us there. Oh, before I forget, here's your card and present from me."

"Where did the clothes come from?" Amanda asked as she sat on the couch, accepting the card and box.

"My closet. I know, you were brought up to always wear those long skirts or dresses, but it's time for you to get in the 21st century, girlfriend. Open it," Robin demanded.

Amanda opened the card first, laughing at the haughty cat on the front and the snarky message inside. She laid the card down, turning the box over several times before slowly ripping off the wrapping paper, with Robin chanting, "Faster, faster!" in the background. "Oh, my goodness," she said, "you shouldn't have, but thank you, Robin!" She jumped up and leaned down to hug her roommate, laughing with delight. "It's perfect!"

"Here, try it on," Robin said, taking the box from her and lifting the necklace out. It was a small silver cross with a turquoise stone in the middle, flanked by two miniature cross earrings. "I know you don't usually wear jewelry, but I figured you'd wear this."

"It's perfect," Amanda said, smoothing the necklace against her skin. She skipped over to the full length mirror in the hallway, slipping the earrings in and admiring the combination. "You're a wonderful friend, Robin, I love it. Sandy, what do you think?" she asked as she flitted back to the couch.

Sandy leaned over, admiring the delicate pendant and earrings. "Beautiful," she agreed, catching a slight whiff of lavander soap scent. "And I like the outfit, perfect for a warm almost summer night." She pulled a card out of her purse and handed it over. "Happy birthday, Amanda."

Amanda opened the card, smiling. The card had a cake on front, with 21 candles, and inside simply said, "Happy 21! You're legal!" and was signed, "Fondly, Sandy". There was also a bookstore gift card tucked in the card. "You shouldn't have, Sandy, but I appreciate it very much." She leaned over, briefly hugging the older woman. "Ok, I'm ready to celebrate," she announced.

The trio left in Sandy's truck, arriving just as the others were pulling into the parking lot. The other women came bounding up, taking turns hugging Amanda, wishing her happy birthday until Robin finally called out, "Hey, let's go inside and eat, I'm starving!"

Amanda was happy, and threw caution to the winds for the night. She let Sandy buy her a fruity mixed drink while they waited for their meals, making a bit of a face when she tried it. Sandy chuckled, leaning over to say, "It's okay if you don't like it."

"It's different," Amanda allowed, taking another sip. She glanced around the table, noting that all of her friends had some sort of fruity drinks as well, even Ellen, who went to her church. The third and fourth sips were easier, as she got used to the sweetness of the beverage. She plunked her drink down, clearing her throat. "May I have your attention, please," she said. Eyes turned to her, conversation stopping. "I'd like to thank all of you for coming to help me celebrate my birthday. Frankly, I always thought I'd be married by now, but here I am, single and loving it."

Margaret grinned, raising her glass. "Hear, hear!" Glasses were clinked at the toast. "My confession," she said, grinning slyly, "is that we never expected you to actually go through with marrying Jimmy. I mean, y'all dated forever, but honey, there was no spark." She winked, adding, "Not that I can imagine Jimmy doing it with any woman!"

Giggles rippled around the table. Before Amanda could respond, she was interrupted by the arrival of their steaks. She waited until she had her first bite of flavorful ribeye to comment, "I shouldn't say this, but his kisses never really stirred me, not like I'd read about or seen on TV or movies."

Margaret swallowed the rest of her drink, signaling the waiter for another. "Methinks Jimmy only has the hots for God," she stage whispered.

"Margaret!" Robin scolded, "not a nice thing to say!"

"It's true," Margaret giggled, "Nick makes me feel oh so good," she purred.

Amanda caught Sandy's amused look, suddenly wondering if Sandy had dated anyone. Why do I care about that? she thought. She lifted her glass, only to find it empty. The waiter swung by, asking, "Another?" She nodded without thinking, finding she really did like the overly sweet concoction.

The conversation swirled around Amanda as the night wore on. Robin stopped her after her second drink, with Sandy nodding agreement. Amanda reluctantly switched to water, realizing that she suddenly really needed the ladies' room. She looked around, spotted the sign, then stood. Or tried to. "Need help?" Robin asked, amused.

"I guess so," Amanda answered, accepting Robin's hand. Her roommate helped her to her feet, taking her by the elbow to guide her to the restrooms. "Why is my balance so off?" she muttered.

"Because you are drunk," Robin answered gleefully. "I sure hope you can take care of business yourself." Amanda nodded, managing to make it into the stall without much difficulty. Robin waited until she heard flushing, asking, "You okay in there?"

"I think so," Amanda said, stumbling out, checking to make sure her pants were buttoned and zipped.

"Good, because I don't want to have to clean up after you tonight," Robin teased. "You, my dear, are so drunk."

Amanda managed to wash her hands without too much trouble, concentrating on the actions rather than Robin's words. "Huh?" she asked belatedly, realizing that Robin was still talking to her.

"Never mind," Robin chuckled, taking her elbow, "let's get back to the table."

The next morning, Amanda woke up feeling a little fuzzy, but not too bad. She managed to get showered, dressed, and at the breakfast table just before Robin left for work. "Hey, girl, how are you feeling?" Robin asked as she stuffed her lunch in her bag.

"Not too bad, just a little discombobulated." Amanda looked hopefully at the coffeepot. "Did you leave that for me?"

"Yes, I figured you'd need it. So no nausea, no splitting headache, no feeling like you want to curl up and die?"

Amanda poured the coffee, sipping it before replying, "No, nothing like that, just feel like I haven't had quite enough sleep."

"Not fair," Robin said. "I'm off to work, Amanda. Do you have plans tonight, or do you want to do dinner together? I'm free tonight."

"I'll make us some dinner," Amanda said. "Go to work, Robin."

The other woman flashed a thumbs up as she left the apartment. Amanda sipped her coffee, wondering what she could scrounge for breakfast. She managed to get up, looking in first the pantry, then the fridge, finally settling on a packet of instant oatmeal and a small banana. She started to reach for the paper before remembering that this was not home, and Robin didn't subscribe to the paper. "It never has much in it anyway," Amanda said out loud.

Once she finished her breakfast, Amanda went back to her room, listlessly rearranging a few things. She saw her guitar case in one corner, wondering if she should play. No, I'm too restless, I'm not sure what to do with myself. If I lived at home, what would I do?

She settled for light housekeeping, making short work of dusting, vacuuming, and scrubbing her bedroom and bathroom. Before she could start sorting her few clothes for washing, the phone rang, causing her to jump. "Who would be calling?" she wondered out loud, looking for the phone. She managed to find it and answer it before it stopped. "Hello?" she said tentatively.

"Hey, Amanda, it's Sandy. How are you doing today?"

Amanda dropped into the rocker in the living room, smiling at the concern in her boss's voice. "Fine, thanks for asking. Robin seemed disappointed this morning that I wasn't sick."

Sandy chuckled at the other end. "Well, glad to hear that. My first time was at a friend's bridal shower, and I hated the taste initially. But after a couple of glasses, I started liking it."

"Oh." Amanda started rocking slowly, enjoying the movement of the chair. "So is that the only reason you called, to see if I was hungover?"

"Pretty much. I guess I should get back to work, I have a conference call in an hour and need to finish preparing. Enjoy your day off, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll be there," Amanda said. "Sure you don't need me to come in and help you prepare? I could work half a day, then work tomorrow morning."

"No, I'm fine, but I appreciate the offer."

Amanda was struck with sudden inspiration. "Listen, I'm cooking tonight, would you like to come over for supper?"

There was a short pause, then Sandy answered, "I'd love to, but I'm working a split shift today. Five hours this morning, then five hours tonight, closing the store. Can I take a raincheck?"

"Yes, you may," Amanda said, striving to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "See you tomorrow."

"All right. Bye."

Amanda hung up the phone, wondering what to do with her day. It struck her that this was the first time she had ever had a day entirely to herself in her life. No school, no work, no parents, no Jimmy, no appointments. Nothing. It was a delightful yet terrifying feeling, almost paralyzing in the possibilities.

She finally settled for going out shopping. The feeling of wearing pants instead of long skirts had been amazing. I was able to wear shorts when I was young, she mused as she gathered her purse and keys, so why would pants be any worse? Why does Pastor Matthews forbid us to wear pants or shorts, anyway? She boldly decided to do something about it.

Sandy stared out of her second story office window, idly watching a few birds fighting over a dropped hot dog bun. She ran her fingers through her shaggy light brown hair, noting that she needed a haircut again, letting her thoughts wander to her young inventory supervisor. Sandy had to put up a quiet fight with the district in order to promote Amanda, but it was the closest title to the work the young woman was actually doing. She'll be pleasantly surprised by the promotion and bump in pay, Sandy thought. Kent will be happy to delegate all inventory-related duties to her.

Last night was fun, but I really have to watch myself. Why am I so strongly attracted to her? She's younger than I am, I'm her boss, and, even though Wheatley has doubled in size lately, it's still a small town in many respects. Sandy restlessly drummed her fingers on the desk, furrowing her brow as the thoughts tumbled in her head. I'm glad she didn't get sick last night or have a hangover this morning. God knows I should have had one after my twenty-first birthday as much as I drank. Then again, I'd have never kissed Alison if I'd been sober that night. Maybe I've been single too long, that's why an intelligent, thoughtful young woman is attracting my attention. The phone rang, disrupting her thoughts. "Jenkins Home Improvement Stores, how may I help you?" she answered automatically.

"Miss Marcus?" the voice on the other end queried.

"This is Cassandra Marcus, store manager," she confirmed, glancing at the caller ID. It showed the name of Amanda's church. "How may I help you?" she repeated firmly.

"This is Associate Pastor James Wilson at the Holy Redeemer Church, and I'd like to meet with you."

Sandy rubbed her temple with the heel of her hand, irritated by the pompous note in the young man's voice. "What would you like to meet about?" she asked smoothly. "My schedule is rather full, but if this is important, I can squeeze you in next week."

"It has to be sooner, Miss Marcus, Pastor Carl Matthews and I have important business to discuss with you regarding the way you are running the store. You are disrupting the lives of some of our congregation, and we need to discuss what to do about this."

"Then you need to speak to the assistant store manager, Kent Hamilton, as he is in charge of scheduling," Sandy pointed out, irritation creeping into her voice. Sorry, Kent, she apologized silently to her assistant manager. "Besides, work schedules are a matter between management and employees, not third parties."

"You would deny a voice to a servant of the Lord?" he asked, incredulous.

God, spare me from your righteous servants, she thought grouchily. "The best I can do is to meet with you for lunch today, about 1:30. How about Norma's on the square?" she countered with a politeness she did not feel.

There was a long silence on the other end, the finally, "That's much later than I usually take lunch."

"I'm working until 1:00, and I need to run an errand first," Sandy said, inventing an errand on the spot. Like, I'm nearly out of allergy medicine, and the drug store is around the block from the cafe.

"Are you sure I can't come see you at your office now?" he persisted.

"Sorry, I have a conference call scheduled in ten minutes. I'll see you at 1:30, Mr. Wilson," she said. She disconnected, irritated by the call. Now in a thoroughly bad mood, she reached for her folder with her reports and notes, waiting impatiently for the conference call to start. "Damn it all," she growled, glaring at the new modern phone sitting on her desk. "You are disrupting the lives of some of our congregation," she singsonged, mimicking the minister's tone of voice. "Dude, my life has been disrupted since I first set foot in Jenkins in college. You can't have everything you want."

Sandy sighed, leafing through her reports. Sales were still trending up steadily, between new housing starts and renovations in town, plus the stream of workers from the wells coming for odds and ends. She found herself drifting to thought of her inventory supervisor, wishing she could have lunch with Amanda instead of the jerk. Before she could pursue the thought, the phone rang and she stabbed the speaker button. Time to pull her head back into the business at hand.

Sandy walked into Norma's Cafe, flagging down a waitress. "Is James Wilson here yet?" she asked the older woman.

The gray haired waitress nodded, pointing her chin at a back table. "Jimmy's over yonder, hon," she replied, "the chubby young fellow next to the wall. You the new manager at over at Jenkins?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sandy said, "Sandy Marcus."

"Flo Peters, glad to meetcha. Go on over, hon, I'll come take your order directly."

Sandy sauntered to the back table, watching the young minister before he caught sight of her. He was chubby, with thick wavy dark hair, neatly parted on the side. He had pale skin, and was restlessly fiddling with the menu, which she suspected he had memorized. Summoning her reserves of charm, she approached, calling out, "James, I'm Cassandra Marcus."

"Thank you for meeting me," he replied, jumping up to pull out her chair for her.

She was surprised, but flattered, at his good manners. Not many men had pulled out her chair for her over the years, especially when she topped their height by at least a couple of inches. "You said you were here to talk to me about store matters," she prompted.

He waited until Flo had come back over to take their orders before answering her. "Miss Marcus," he said gravely, "Pastor Matthews and I have noticed a decrease in our Sunday morning worship attendance, specifically, among the young men who work for you. I suspect that these young men are being scheduled to work on the Lord's Day, and thus unable to attend services. Also, I hear that you have women working in the evenings and on the weekends, when they should be with their families. What will you do to rectify this situation?"

He had more directness than I gave him credit for, she thought. "James, I'm sorry your church attendance is down, but believe me, I'm not stopping anyone from attending services. We open at noon on Sundays, and I understand your church offers an 8:30 and an 11:00 service. Had you considered talking to these people about attending the earlier service?"

They waited as Flo set their plates down before Jimmy replied stubbornly, "But they've always attended the late service."

"James-"

"You may call me Jimmy, everyone else does," he said quietly.

Sandy flashed a perfunctory smile. "Jimmy. You may call me Sandy. Jimmy, let me enlighten you about the reality of retail. Store hours are set by corporate, not by the local management. We have to schedule shifts to start before opening and after closing to restock, clean up, and perform other tasks. The reality is that if I tried to change the hours, I'd be in hot water with with my district manager."

He swallowed a bite of chicken before answering, "Sandy, I'm just asking that you give our people consideration for their religious beliefs and obligations. We firmly believe that the Lord does not want us to work on Sunday, and need to take that day as a day of rest with their church and their families."

Sandy took a long sip of coffee, trying to formulate an answer without sounding too angry. This young pup obviously does not understand how the real world works, she thought, but if I give in, I'll never have a chance to make this store successful. "Well, then, have you considered adding services, or having activities on multiple nights so more people have a chance to attend services and meetings?" she countered.

"Pastor Matthews would not like that," Jimmy admitted, "I ran that by him after we started having attendance decline. He says that the Lord needs our worship on Sundays and Wednesdays."

Sandy shook her head slowly. "Then you have a problem, Jimmy, not me. How many of my employees belong to your church? We have about a hundred employees, more or less, so how many are yours?"

Jimmy looked at the ceiling, counting in his head. "About thirty," he admitted finally.

She stared at him, incredulous. "So you expect me to completely change our operating hours to accomodate a third of the employees? Sorry, Jimmy, no can do. In fact, we should really be open longer, to match the hours in the rest of the chain's hours. We should be open 7:00 AM to 10:00 PM Monday-Saturday, 8:00 AM to 9:00 PM on Sunday."

"But what about Amanda?" he blurted out.

"What about her? She's a great employee, in fact, I promoted her to inventory supervisor recently," Sandy countered, starting to understand where the conversation was really headed.

He tore open a roll, buttering it as he explained, "Amanda has recently started wearing pants! It's a sin for a woman to wear pants, completely immodest. Did you force her to wear pants?"

Irritated, Sandy answered, "Store policy is that all employees wear Jenkins branded shirts and khaki pants or jeans. Amanda is an adult, Jimmy, and can make her own decisions. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you talk to her about it."

"She was never like this before you came along," he replied heatedly, "she's spending too much time with the wrong people outside of Holy Redeemer. You are her boss, you can tell her what to do."

Sandy waited to reply until Flo had set their plates down and she had taken her first bite of chicken fried steak. "Look," she said sharply, "I don't tell my employees what to do with their lives. The chain has already bent over backwards to keep this store happy, because we think the store will be quite profitable in the next year or so. Growth in Wheatley is tremendous with the wells and with the new wineries coming online on the outskirts of town. Have you gone and tried to tell the owners of those businesses what they should do? Have you gone to save the souls of the roustabouts in the fields? Why are you picking on my store?"

"Because I'm concerned for Amanda's soul," he blurted out, "she broke our engagement after you came along, after her father sold the store. She was supposed to marry me and support me through the rest of my degree, then quit work and have our children!"

The store manager shook her head slowly. "Jimmy," she asked, "did you ever ask her why she broke the engagement?"

He sighed, fiddling with his fork, trailing it through the mashed potatoes and gravy. "She said she didn't love me, and wanted to give me the chance to marry a woman who did."

"It sounds like she did you a favor then," Sandy said quietly.

"But I loved her, Sandy, and wanted her by my side," Jimmy sighed, looking down at his plate.

"Did you ever tell her that you loved her?" Sandy asked, digging into her green beans.

He looked up, confused. "I planned to marry her, isn't that enough?"

"No," Sandy said bluntly, "that wasn't enough. I hate to be all in your business, but you should never assume with someone you love. You should tell them how you feel, ask them how they feel, work together to share the load. I grew up with parents who always said how much they loved each other, and they worked together for common goals. It was an equal partnership, not Dad telling Mom what to do, or Mom telling Dad what to do. That, to me, is a true marriage."

He pondered her words. Only when it was too late. I just assumed we'd marry, have a family, that I would take over the church, he thought sadly. "But Paul said that the man was the head of the household," he said, grasping at straws.

Sandy answered, "And that was thousands of years ago. Jesus was more egalitarian, treated women with respect and like they had brains. After all, when Martha was complaining that her sister Mary wasn't helping out in the kitchen, Jesus told Martha that Mary was doing something as important, she was listening to him and learning. I'd think that Jesus trumps Paul, in this case."

"How do you know the Bible? You don't go to church," Jimmy said, staring at her in surprise.

Sandy smiled. "Just because I don't currently attend any church here doesn't mean that I never attended church," she answered, glancing at her watch. "Jimmy, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get back to work. Seriously, consider offering services aimed at young people when they can come, and not expect them to fit your schedule. Maybe God is opening a window of opportunity here."

"Maybe," he said slowly. He stood as she did, offering his hand. "Thank you for meeting with me, Sandy."

"You're welcome," she answered, picking up her ticket. "Good luck," she added as she stood up and headed for the cash register.

Kent stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his back before he looked at the email again. It was from the regional office, not just the district office, demanding to know why the Wheatley store was still open fewer hours than the other stores in the district. It was addressed to Sandy and the district manager, but he was copied in as well. "Well, crap," he muttered as he read it a third time. "Preacher really won't like this."

About that time, Sandy and Amanda walked into his office, each holding a laptop. "Kent, any suggestions about this missive?" Sandy asked as she plopped down in one of his visitors' chairs. Amanda quietly sat as well, opening her laptop up and obviously looking at the email. For someone who never used a computer, Amanda's really getting comfortable with technology, he mused.

Amanda looked up, rubbing her cheek and neck distractedly. "Kent, didn't we figure out recently that only a few of our employees have a real problem with the longer hours? I'm not fond of the idea of working on a Sunday, but certainly if people miss church in the morning, they can attend the evening service, or the Wednesday night service. I'm willing to go on Wednesday night instead of Sunday morning, for example."

Sandy laid her laptop on Kent's desk, then rubbed her neck with both hands. "True, Amanda, and I appreciate your flexibility. Speaking of which, did I tell you that your ex, Jimmy, had lunch with me yesterday? He was pontificating about the same thing, about the Lord's day and whatnot. Regional is on our backs to go with the standard hours, and this one church is on our backs to do the opposite. We have to follow company policy, but how do we make it easier to take?"

Kent shrugged. "How about a store meeting? We have one scheduled in a few days anyway, so why not bring it up then? We can say that if you need to accommodate your sincerely held religious beliefs, and that we can be flexible in scheduling to allow you to attend one of the services during the week. That way they can't say we're not cooperating, but we're also putting people on notice that you have to work the hours the store is open."

"Yeah, it might work." Sandy rubbed her neck distractedly, trying to work out the kinks before giving up and reaching for her laptop to look at her reports. "It looks like we're starting to hit our sales goals now, so really regional should back off, but I have a feeling this is a way to make sure that no other stores start asking for shorter hours. Kent, I like your idea, but we have to make sure we're not favoring people who are just asking off for church services, but for other activities."

Amanda spoke up. "You can also mention that with the additional hours, it will be easier to get a morning or afternoon off for medical appointments, since you can be at work when doctors' offices are closed. Dad used to get some gripes about people not being able to make their doctor's appointments easily."

"Good idea, Amanda," Sandy said. "Kent, make a note of that." She looked at the reports again, scrolling through for a few minutes before pulling her attention back to Amanda and Kent. "We get quite a rush as soon as we open on Sundays, and another rush right after dinner most nights. So extending our hours would help, I think. Kent, go ahead and start drawing up a few schedules for the normal store hours, we'll present them at the meeting. Amanda, come with me, we need to go over the orders again. I have a few questions."

"Will do, Sandy," Kent said. "When do you need the schedules?"

"Later today, if possible, but by tomorrow morning for sure. Thanks." Sandy closed her laptop and turned to Amanda. "Want to stop for a cup of coffee first?"

"Sure," Amanda said, picking up her own laptop. She followed the lanky manager into the break room, heading for the always brewing coffee machines. Amanda reached for her mug, filling it as she thought about the conversation. I'll bet Jimmy was horrified at being turned down, she thought as she added cream to her brew.

Sandy topped off her mug, looking for the best place to sit. A few people were scattered about, including a few who would be affected by the new schedules. She dropped into a chair, laying her computer down before taking a sip. She made a face at the weak brew, asking, "Where do we get our coffee from?"

Amanda blinked, wondering where the question came from. "We buy in bulk from Red Express. Red Grant's grandfather started the business, supplying businesses with coffee and supplies, filling vending machines, that sort of thing. Why?"

"I don't want to sound like a snob, but it's not very good, and it's pretty weak," Sandy said, making a face at the offending coffee.

Amanda sipped hers, then set it down. "I didn't think it was that bad," she said, "but then again, I grew up on this. It could be the water, we do have a pretty high mineral content, so that might throw the flavor off. Do you want me to check with Red about a different blend? We do pretty much buy the cheapest he offers."

"Let me think about it." She glanced around, deciding not to broach the scheduling issue in here. "How comfortable are you with the reporting functions of the order program?"

"What do you mean?" Amanda asked, puzzled.

Sandy rephrased her question. "In other words, if I asked you for a report that is not predefined in the software, would you be able to figure it out?"

"I might have to call Brody, but I think I could do it, Sandy. What kind of report are you needing?" Amanda asked.

Sandy sipped her coffee, framing her answer before answering, "You give me sales reports by day, by hour, etc., but I'm looking for a longer trend. I realize that we don't have that much to go on, since we've only been computerized for short while, but I need to be able to see what we're selling when, and if there are any trends."

"Oh, a trend analysis! I've done these for Dad for a few years, so I can give you copies," Amanda said eagerly. "Maybe not by hour, but I can give you a good idea of how much of which product lines we sell by week. Before he sold the business, we'd noticed a big shift as the drillers were coming in, and people were fixing up their houses and apartment buildings to rent. I have some ideas, too, if you'd like to hear them, now that I've seen what all Jenkins has to sell."

Damn, this girl is good! Sandy thought, watching Amanda's eager expression. She gets what I need before I can articulate it. She sure is cute. Sandy immediately chastised herself for the last thought, almost losing track of what Amanda was saying. "Okay, could you have copies made of the last five years and bring them to me by the end of the day?"

"Sure. I'll go copy them now," Amanda said, starting to stand.

Sandy shook her head, waving for Amanda to sit back down. "No, have Stacy do it, she's supposed to be back office administrative support. Which reminds me, we need to schedule a meeting."

"Oh?" Amanda asked, wondering what was going on. "I'm free now."

Sandy glanced around, deciding not to say much more so it wouldn't get around. "Now is fine, let's go back to my office, if you don't mind."

Amanda picked up her mug and laptop, following the store manager, suddenly uneasy. Am I getting fired? she wondered.

Sandy closed the door behind them, motioning for Amanda to have a seat. She sat behind her desk, reaching for a confidential file, handing it to Amanda and explaining as the younger woman opened it, "Congratulations are in order, Amanda. I've promoted you from inventory supervisor to inventory manager, which means that now you are on the same reporting level as Kent. In fact, we'll be shifting duties a little with your promotion. You'll also be working with commercial sales and special orders to insure that we have the correct stock, and to streamline the commercial sales process. There's also a pretty big jump in pay, and you'll be salaried rather than hourly. The drawbacks are that you'll no longer get overtime pay, although you'll be eligible for bigger bonuses. You'll also need to take some classes, some through Jenkins U, some through the local community college. What do you think?"

Amanda's eyes widened at the new salary figure and list of new responsibilities. "Do you think I can do this?" she asked.

Sandy relaxed, nodding. "I wouldn't have put you up for it if I didn't. I've been impressed by your initiative, and your ability to integrate the history of this store with the way Jenkins does things, especially with computers."

Amanda smiled. "You really think I can do this then? Sandy, I don't know what to say." She glanced through the file, trying to take in the new postion. "Pastor Matthews always preached that women were submissive to men, and that we shouldn't overeducate ourselves." Before Sandy could protest, Amanda held up her hand. "But I've always wanted to go to college, Sandy, and this is my chance, so thank you." An impish look gleamed in her brown eyes. "Boy, Jimmy will have a cow! I'm so glad that decided not to marry him."

The store manager hesitated, wondering if she should follow up on the comment. She dismissed the temptation, simply replying, "If you say so. He didn't exactly impress me as your best match."

"Anything else?"

"Nope."

Amanda stood, gathering her laptop, hesitating before opening the door. "Sandy, I want your opinion on something, since my parents are out of the country on vacation. Do you think it would be wrong if I get my hair cut? I'm tired of dealing with the length, and like the way Robin's is just over her collar. Would I be bad to get mine cut like that?"

Sandy's gray-green eyes surveyed her inventory manager, drumming her fingers lightly on her desk. "I'm no fashion expert," she finally said, "but I think it would be just fine shorter. Why don't you get an opinion from an expert? I'm going to get mine cut this evening, so why don't you tag along and ask the hairdresser? Maybe we can get dinner too, and talk some more about your new job."

Amanda's eyes lit up happily. "I don't have any plans tonight, so that would be great, Sandy. Did you want to go from work?"

"No, let's meet there, then decide where to have dinner. You know where Cut & Curls is? My appointment is at six with Gail someone or another."

Amanda nodded. "It's a block from the main square downtown, near the new pizza parlor. I can meet you there at six. This will be fun!" She smiled at her boss. Robin is out tonight, so this will be a perfect opportunity to spend more time with Sandy alone, she thought.

"See you there. Now, scoot along, I have work to do, and I bet you do too," Sandy said, making exaggerated flapping motions.

Amanda picked up her laptop and left on cloud nine. Too bad my folks are out of the country, I can hardly wait to tell them about my promotion!

Amanda debated briefly about what to wear, settling for a new pair of crop pants and collarless knit shirt with nice sandals. She looked at herself in Robin's full length mirror, pleased with her new outfit. I hope Sandy likes this outfit. She pulled her hair up, lifting it off the nape of her neck, trying to visualize it shorter. Dad has never said anything about my hair, but Jimmy used to go on and on about it. Well, Jimmy no longer has a vote, she decided. She glanced at her new watch, realizing she needed to leave now to get to the salon on time. She grabbed her purse, locked up, and hurried out to the parking lot.

She arrived with a minute to spare. Sandy was already in the waiting area, leafing through a popular magazine, making faces at the pictures. Amanda watched her boss for a moment, amused by Sandy's expressiveness, how she ran her entire hand through her hair repeatedly, pushing back the light brown locks from her face. Amanda smiled fondly, glad to spend more time with this intriguing woman. "Hey, I'm here," she announced quietly.

Sandy looked up, eyes crinkling at the corner as she smiled. "Nice outfit, did you go shopping again recently?" she asked as she scooted her bag out of the chair next to her. "Have a seat, Gail should be with me shortly."

"Thanks, and yes, I went shopping recently." Amanda sat, pulling her purse into her lap tightly. "I was hoping you'd like it," she added shyly.

"I do." Before she could elaborate, the receptionist called her name. "That's us. Follow me." Amanda followed the tall woman back to Gail's booth, eyes widening as she took in everything. "Hey, Gail, this is Amanda Collins, we work together. Amanda has a question about getting her hair cut."

The matronly woman looked Amanda up and down as she flipped out the cape to fasten around Sandy's neck. "I'm pleased to meet you, Amanda. Have you lived here long? I've never seen you here."

Amanda reddened as she answered, "I grew up here, but I go to Holy Redeemer Church, and we're not supposed to have short hair. I rarely even wear it down, usually braid it and pin it up. I'm curious what your opinion is about me getting my hair cut short."

Gail stood, motioning for Amanda to turn a full circle, pursing her lips in thought. "Are you still a member of the church?" she asked delicately.

"Yes," Amanda said slowly, "but my roommate, Robin, has short hair, and she's a good Christian. It makes me wonder why I can't get mine cut."

"Hm." Gail reached up, hefting the length in her hands, feeling the texture. "I tell you what, Amanda. If you want a haircut, I can make some suggestions, but I want you to think about it. If you do, I can donate your hair to Locks of Love, and it will be used to make wigs for people who have lost their hair to cancer or other diseases. How does that sound?"

"Good."

Gail looked closely for another minute, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a book, flipping quickly through the pages until she found what she wanted. "I think you'd look good with this cut," she said, handing the book over. "You can sit there and watch me cut Sandy's hair. Vanessa isn't working tonight, so the chair will be empty."

"Thank you, ma'am," Amanda said as she lowered herself into the chair, holding the book carefully. She bent to look at the picture, wondering what she would look like. It was a simple cut, bangs and lightly feathered back on the sides, tapering a bit in the back. It looked like it would leave her neck and ears uncovered. Should I? she wondered.

Sandy looks so good with her hair short, Amanda mused, maybe that's part of her confidence. And it looks like she's enjoying the process. Jimmy never liked it when I tried to touch his hair, yet if I let him, he'd run his fingers through my hair, praising the length and thickness. Amanda looked at the picture, then back at the two women chatting easily. I wish I felt that comfortable with women playing with my hair like that. She suddenly closed the book and announced, "I want my hair cut too."

Gail nodded and said, "You're in luck, sweetie, my next customer called to cancel earlier today. Why don't you run up front and tell them that you're taking my next appointment?"

Amanda jumped up, suddenly eager to make the change. She approached the front desk and waited for the receptionist's attention. When the woman was free, Amanda announced, "Gail said to tell you that I'm ner next appointment."

The young lady smiled briskly, tapping the touch screen of the monitor. "Very good, you're lucky that she had an opening. What's your name, hon?"

Several minutes later, Amanda was back watching Gail finish Sandy's haircut and rinse. Before she knew it, she was sitting in the chair, feeling the cape draping around her like a light blanket, heart racing in anticipation. Gail ran her hands through Amanda's hair, gauging it before asking, "Do you want it short, like in the picture, or a more conservative length? I can still get plenty for the project by taking it to the middle of your back."

Mesmerized by the feeling of Gail's fingers slipping through her hair, Amanda answered decisively, "Take it short." She snuck a glance over at Sandy, who was lounging in the empty station next to them. Sandy smiled and nodded, and relief flooded through Amanda. "Like the picture," Amanda declared.

"All right, sweetie," Gail said, preparing to get started. "You will like the results, I promise. You have great hair, Amanda, this will be an excellent donation. We don't get many blondes with your quality of hair. Have you ever colored it?"

"No, ma'am, I've never had it cut, except Mom trimming my bangs. Pastor Matthews says that a woman's glory is her hair, and she should not cut it, but I'm tired of dealing with it."

Gail started sectioning her hair in preparation for cutting it, asking, "Are you Albert and Charlotte Collin's daughter?" Amanda nodded. "Then I went to school with your parents. Did your mom ever tell you about the time nearly the entire class got in trouble? We all snuck out one Saturday night and went to the strip outside of Lubbock and went drinking and dancing." She smiled in memory of the evening long ago. "When we got back to Wheatley, there was a mob of angry parents at the edge of town, waiting for us. We're lucky that we weren't arrested for underage drinking, or driving drunk. The good Lord must have been looking out for us fools," she concluded, chuckling.

"My parents, drinking?" Amanda asked in shock and awe. "And dancing?"

"Yes, we had a terrific time, line dancing and two-stepping to beat the band. Your parents were terrific, I thought they'd burn a hole in the dance floor. Mercy, they were good! My Grady and I managed to avoid each other's toes, but your folks looked like they were Fred and Ginger. You never knew about this?"

"No," Amanda answered, trying to picture her parents as reckless young people. "They really went dancing and drank?"

Gail kept cutting and bagging the length steadily, then moved to shaping. "Yep, they did, Amanda. Your parents were the best dancers in our class, moved with grace and beauty." She kept up a steady chatter, speaking of old times, until she finally laid her hands on Amanda's shoulders. "What do you think?"

Amanda looked at her reflection, silently accepting the hand mirror so she could swirl around and see the back too. "It's going to take some getting used to, but I think I like it," she finally said. She found herself seeking Sandy's eyes. "Do you like it, Sandy?"

Sandy cleared her throat, a little awestruck at the change. "You look a little older, more mature, and very beautiful," she said quietly. She gave in to temptation, reaching out to touch the silky locks. "It's darker now, not as blonde. I like it, Amanda."

Amanda smiled, leaning in to the subtle caress, eyes locking with Sandy's. "Thank you," she breathed.

Gail sensed a charge between the women, wondering if they felt it, too. I pegged Sandy, she reminds me of my friend Lisa, but I'd never have thought of Amanda that way, she thought. "If you two are done admiring my handiwork, I'd like to check out and go home. My dogs are barking loudly," Gail teased.

Sandy immediately drew back, embarrassed. "Of course, we should both know how tired your feet are. Amanda, let's go pay," Sandy said, tucking her hands in her back pockets.

"Oh, yes," Amanda said, smiling dreamily.

Gail chuckled, ushering them to the front desk and handing them over to the receptionist. "Come back to see me, both of you," she said as the receptionist rang up their cuts. "Go get some supper now."

Amanda was rather surprised at how much the bill was, but figured she could afford it with her pay increase. She watched Sandy pay, noting that Sandy added a tip, and did likewise. She felt a silly grin crossing her face as they walked out into the twilight, not wanting the evening to end. "So, where do you want to go?" she asked as they reached their trucks in the parking lot.

Sandy rubbed her cheek, thinking, finally offering, "How about Red's? Kent says they have great barbecue sandwiches."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Really? We've always been told it was a dive, not a place for young Christians to go."

Sandy laughed as she unlocked her door. "There's nothing wrong, it just serves beer and wine and has live music on the weekends. Is that why it's so bad?"

"Truthfully, I'm not sure, but it might be why. I'll meet you there," Amanda said.

A little while later, they met at Red's and were immediately seated in a booth toward the back. Amanda took the opportunity to look around, taking in the battered tin signs decorating the walls, the old farm equipment on shelves and hanging from the ceiling, and the fascinating collection of bottle caps in thick acrylic covering the table top. They placed their orders, then Sandy asked, "What do you think of this place?"

"It's interesting," Amanda said as she dragged her attention back to her dinner companion. "So I guess that's the stage and dance floor?"

"Yes," Sandy said, reaching for her iced tea. "I've been here a few weekends, and there's been some pretty good local bands playing. Heavy on country, some rock, mostly old covers. Lots of people doing line dances and two-step here."

"That could be fun," Amanda said, trying to picture herself dancing. She reached for her water, adding wistfully, "I wish I could dance. Robin and Margaret sometimes go dancing with their boyfriends on the weekends. Robin's church holds family dance night once a month to provide a safe place for couples and families to gather. Jimmy and I went to it once, and that was the night I broke up with him."

Sandy gave in to her curiosity, asking, "If you don't mind me asking, why did you break up with him?"

Amanda waited to answer until the waiter had set their food down, then said, "Well, we had dated since high school, Sandy, but I felt like I was just marking time." Sandy nodded. "I know you're supposed to resist temptation and remain pure, but even when he kissed me goodnight, I didn't feel anything, and he took me for granted. Besides, I was supposed to quit working and start popping out babies when Jimmy took over the pulpit, and I suddenly realized I wanted to keep working and had no desire to have children."

"Wow," Sandy commented, "I suspected some of this, but you didn't even want children? I thought I was the only one who didn't want kids."

"Don't tell anyone," Amanda cautioned, "I'd be seen as a weirdo or unwomanly or worse. I get so tired of hearing my friends babble on about when they become mothers. It's nice to talk to someone who feels the same way. So why have you never married?"

Sandy cursed herself for opening the door to the question, wondering if she could tell the truth. It's still a small West Texas town, she reminded herself. She took a big bite of brisket to buy a little time. God, she's so damned beautiful with that new hair cut. "I guess I never met anyone special enough to marry," she finally said. Crap, I opened the door to this conversation, I might as well continue. "So what would you want in a marriage?" she asked.

Amanda pondered the question as she finished her last bite of fried okra. "Well," she finally said, "If I get to choose, I'd want someone who is intelligent but practical. I grew up with a dad who could repair anything in the house, I guess partly from owning a hardware store for so long. I want someone who will appreciate me, who will listen to me, who will want my opinion. Jimmy did while we were in high school, but after we graduated and he started on his theology degree, that started going by the wayside."

"Sounds good so far," Sandy encouraged her.

"But I know there's more than just being handy and being smart," Amanda said slowly. "I want romance, and passion. Granted, I've been rather sheltered, but the time you took me to the art walk in Lubbock was the best time I've ever had. I want someone who isn't afraid to love, isn't afraid to be passionate. I know that my church quotes Paul quite often to say we should be celibate before marriage and so on, but I've seen how my parents still look at each other, and I want someone who is not afraid to show that they love me."

"Wow," Sandy said, "so you want a smart, sexy guy."

Amanda nodded vigorously. "Yeah, someone more like Kent. I'm not saying I want Kent, he's happily married, but he respects my opinion, and the way he talks about his wife shows that he truly, deeply loves her."

Sandy glanced at her watch and groaned. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm opening tomorrow, and need to get my sleep." She signaled the waiter for their checks, waiting until he had dropped them off to add, "It's been a fun evening. I love your hair, it looks great."

"Thank you," Amanda said shyly, reaching up to touch it. "I think I will like it, but it will take some getting used to." The waiter left their checks, and the women busied themselves with paying before walking out to their respective trucks. "Sandy, thanks for a wonderful evening," Amanda said as she unlocked her truck. "I guess I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"You're welcome," Sandy said as she opened her door. "Have fun styling your hair in the morning." She flashed a grin at the younger woman as she hopped into her truck.

As Amanda drove back to the apartment, she thought about their conversation, wondering why Sandy acted so uneasy when she asked why she had never married. Most of my friends are already married, engaged, or dating steadily. I can't imagine being single at Sandy's age. If Sandy were a man, I'd set my cap for her, she's fun, intelligent, pretty, and treats me like an adult, not like a kid. Too bad she's a woman, she decided.

The next morning, Robin stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and reaching for her box of cereal. "Morning, Amanda," she mumbled as she poured cereal into a bowl. "Is there enough coffee for me?"

"Yes, I fixed a full pot," Amanda said, looking up from the book she was reading. "There's plenty for you to have."

"I love you," Robin declared fervently, "for taking such good care of me." She glanced over as she returned the milk to the fridge and almost dropped it in her surprise. "Amanda, you cut your hair! When did you do this? What possessed you? I love it!"

"Last night, and I tagged along with Sandy when she went to get hers cut. Gail, her stylist, had an opening, so I decided to do it before I backed out. So you like it?"

"Yeah!" Robin put her breakfast on the table, then went behind Amanda, running her fingers through the new length. "It looks great, Amanda, and makes you look older, more sophisticated. Hey, I'm going to run to Lubbock Saturday to go shopping, want to tag along? Margaret was supposed to go, but she decided to do something with her boyfriend instead."

"I'd like that, Robin," Amanda said, allowing herself to relax for a moment, relishing the feel of her friend's fingers sliding through her hair. "That feels good," she said, sighing with happiness.

Robin smiled, leaning over to give her a quick hug before slipping into her chair. "You're making all the changes now, moving out, buying a few new clothes, cutting your hair, what next?"

"Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you, I got a raise and promotion to inventory manager. The only condition is that I'll have to start taking a few classes, but I'll get to hire someone to do my old job. I'm pretty excited about this."

"Amanda, you're just doing all the good now! You definitely need to go shopping, then. Will you still have to wear the Jenkins shirts, or can you wear your own?"

"Kent and Sandy wear the Jenkins shirts, but they usually wear the button downs, not the polos or t-shirts," Amanda said thoughtfully, "but I could buy some new pants. They both wear khakis and chinos, so if you can help me find some, I'd be grateful," Amanda said.

"It's a plan." Robin glanced up at the kitchen clock, making a face. "I have to hurry now so I won't be late. Okay, it's a date for Saturday. We leave early so we can treat ourselves to breakfast, shopping, maybe even take in a movie or something later." She started shoveling in her cereal.

Amanda glanced up at the clock, then closed her book. "I guess I'd better get ready too, Robin." She took her dishes to the sink, rinsing them and loading them into the dishwasher before adding, "I'll put the rest of the coffee in a thermos for you."

"You're my best friend, then," Robin said, gulping the last of her cereal. "Boy, since you started living here, my life has been easier. You do dishes, you make coffee, you do your share of the cleaning. I gotta scoot now."

Amanda took Robin's dishes, saying "Go on, or you'll be late." Robin smiled sheepishly as she hurried back to her room. Amanda loaded the dishes, then poured the coffee into a thermos before going to get herself ready for the day.

Amanda received compliments all day on her new haircut, which pleased her to no end. She could hardly wait to go shopping with Robin for new clothes now to complete her new look. It took her a little longer than usual to settle into her work since she was distracted by a stream of compliments, but finally managed to escape to her office.

At mid-morning, she stopped to take a break, grabbing her favorite mug to head to the break room. She poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a donut, taking them over to a table to sit for a few minutes while eating the donut. She had just finished when Ryan Wilcox came in, heading for the coffee and donuts.

"Good morning, Ryan," she called out, "how's the world of plumbing?"

He grumbled something under his breath as he came over to sit with her. He stared at her, making her a little uneasy, finally saying, "It's okay, I guess, lots of business lately. Are you having to work weekends? Your daddy never made me work weekends, and certainly not Sundays. That young pup Hamilton scheduled me for Sunday this week," he groused.

"I do work some weekends as needed, but rotate which days I work. It's usually either a Saturday morning or Sunday afternoon every other week, Ryan," she said to the older man. "Daddy was lucky to be able to resist opening on Sundays as long as he did, especially with our population boom."

The older man snorted. "Amanda, I've worked in this store for ten years, ran my own plumbing business before that, and never worked a Sunday in my life." He stared at her, suddenly shifting subjects. "When did you get your hair cut? It's too short, girl, don't you know what the pastor says about women with short hair? You've shorn God's glory. What will your daddy say? What will Jimmy say?"

Amanda suddenly wished for Sandy's steady influence, but replied calmly, "Ryan, I don't live with my parents any longer, they don't have any say in what I do or don't do. I broke up with Jimmy months ago, so he has no say either. Most of my friends have short hair, or at least get it trimmed regularly, and no one complains about them."

"We'll see what Pastor has to say about this," he said, shaking a thick finger at her. "And you tell that Kent Hamilton to quit scheduling me for Sundays!"

"I don't have any say about scheduling, Ryan, but I'll talk to him," she said, trying to soothe the older man. Are you working Sunday afternoons or mornings?"

"Doesn't matter," he groused, "it's still the Lord's day, and I shouldn't have to work at all." He took a long swallow of coffee, then held out the mug. "Mind pouring me a touch more?"

"I was just about to top mine off," Amanda said, reaching for the mugs.

He watched her, then gasped. "Girl, you're wearing pants!"

She set the refilled mugs down, saying, "Yes, it's more practical, and it fits with the dress code."

"But Pastor says women aren't supposed to wear pants or shorts," he said, stunned. "It's bad enough that you started wearing them short sleeved shirts, but pants? My God, what will you do next?"

Amanda wisely held her tongue, instead commenting, "I'd better get back to work."

He glanced up at the clock, grumbling, "I guess I'll sit here another minute. But think about it, girl. What are you going to do next?"

"Get back to work, that's what I'm going to do," she replied blandly as she rose. "See you later, Ryan." Amanda took her mug over to the sink and rinsed it before adding it to the dishwasher, aware that his eyes were following her every move. I don't need you telling me what I can or can't do, she thought as she made her way back to her office.

Tension was simmering at the storewide meeting as Kent explained the new schedules. "We still have the questionnaires you filled out a while back, and will do our best to accommodate your personal schedules, but there will be times you will have to work when you don't want to, that's just the nature of retail," he concluded.

"But why do we have to work Sunday mornings?" Ryan Wilcox called out. "Maybe Sunday afternoons, but Sunday mornings?"

Sandy stepped up. "I'll address this," she said to Kent, who nodded and moved aside. "Jenkins is the third largest home improvement chain in the southwest, and part of the reason we are this big is that we've been willing to help our customers get what they need, when they need it. Our customers have traditionally been a mix of home owners, home builders, apartment maintenance companies, and small businesses. To meet the needs of these groups, we need to be open early for the builders and other businesses, but to meet the needs of home owners, we need evening and weekend hours. You owned a plumbing business, how often did you get emergency calls on the weekends?"

Ryan retorted, "People knew I wasn't open on Sundays, and worked only Saturday mornings."

"So if they have a leak, or need to replace a faucet, and it's Sunday morning, where do they go?" she asked rhetorically. "That's why we have these longer hours, Ryan, to meet the needs of our customers. If you had hired someone to work with you who worshiped on Friday or Saturday, couldn't they have taken emergency Sunday calls?"

"Yes, I guess so," he conceded, "but I'm a Christian, and I worship on Sunday mornings."

Sandy replied, "It may be inconvenient, but you will work when Kent assigns you to work. We've always had a rotating schedule so everyone has to work at least one weekend a month, but on the other hand, you get at least one day off during the week to run those errands that you can't get to during the week."

"My wife does those errands," he shot back, "like a good Christian woman should."

Sandy's face suddenly went cold and hard as she stated, "Be grateful that you can afford to support your wife, and that she can choose not to work outside of the home. Meeting dismissed." As the assembly left to go to their various departments, Sandy turned to Kent and said, "Keep an eye on him. He's determined to cause trouble, I can smell it."

"Okay. Do you think it would help if I talked to Jimmy about offering a Sunday evening service?" Kent asked.

"Are other churches offering alternate worship times?" Sandy asked. "I asked him about it, but he didn't seem very enthused by the idea."

"I think a few do, but I'll check around. Frankly, I wouldn't mind going to a service on Saturday or Sunday night so I could sleep in from time to time. My wife wouldn't mind either," he added, eyes twinkling.

"TMI, dude," she laughed. "I'm going to to a walkaround before I head back to my office. See you later."

Amanda was struggling to understand how to enroll in Jenkins U courses. "If you know this stuff already, it's fine," she grumbled as she hit the speed dial for Brody. She waited impatiently for the trainer to answer. "Hey, Brody, Amanda Collins at the Wheatley store. I'm having trouble figuring out this Jenkins U application. Sandy and Kent want me to sign up for classes, but I can't figure out how." She listened, comprehension dawning. "Oh, so one of them has to pre-approve me for the courses. Okay, I'll get one of them to sign off. Then what?" She took notes as he explained the steps, thinking it sounded pretty complicated. Why not just be able to call someone and say what you needed to register for? she wondered. "Thanks, Brody, I appreciate it. Talk to you soon."

She hung up, turning back to her to-do list, checking off completed tasks, making notes next to what she still needed to complete during the week. "Hire replacement," she read out loud. "I've never even interviewed for a job, how do I know what to do?"

Just as she finished the thought, Carla Brown from Human Resources poked her head in. "Hey, is this a good time? Kent said to talk to you about hiring an assistant for you."

"I was just thinking about that, so this is a good time," Amanda answered, motioning for the woman to take a seat. "Frankly, I haven't the first idea about what to do."

"That's why I'm here," the older woman said with a smile. She laid her tablet in her lap, tapping in her pin. "I've been in HR for Jenkins close to thirty years, so we'll get you a good assistant." She opened an app, browsing through several screens before tapping on a new form. "This looks like it would fit, assistant to the inventory manager. Responsible for placing all stock orders, coding charges to cost centers, coordinating department inventory reports, compiling reports as requested, and so on and so forth. Needs at least a few years of college and experience in purchasing or order systems, preferably in retail. We may have to modify this a little to fit local conditions. Once we hire someone, this should free your time from having to monitor absolutely everything." She laid the tablet on the edge of the desk and asked, "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"No, not really. Most of the people I went to school went to work for their parents, moved out of town, or dropped out to get married."

"I'll talk to the newspaper and other HR managers in town, then," Carla said, picking up the tablet and making a few notes. "Does the local high school have any vocational programs? I know many don't now, but it seems like a reasonable place to start."

"I don't think so, but we do have a community college," she offered.

"Good enough." Carla picked up her tablet and started to leave, then suddenly asked, "Where are the old personnel records, like the employee reviews? We've loaded the payroll information, but I can't find any reviews, just notes on when people started and left."

"Reviews?" Amanda asked, thinking. "I don't recall Dad ever having time for any formal reviews, he just relied on the department managers to keep everyone on track. I think the last time he had to fire anyone was before I was born."

"You're kidding, no reviews? No paper trail?" Carla asked, astonished.

"Carla, this was a very small town, and believe you me, peer pressure kept you in line. A word to your dad, your wife, your pastor, was all we needed if they didn't do what their manager said. Most people have either worked here most of their lives, or came here to escape working on a farm," Amanda explained.

"I see. Well, we'll just have to start reviews soon, corporate is asking about them," Carla said, "and we do what corporate demands. Thanks!" Carla left the office, leaving Amanda to wonder what kind of ruckus there would be about this.

"Thank God for the weekend," Robin said as they were seated for breakfast. "I thought it would never come! Work was so busy this week, lots of parents fitting in dental cleanings for their little darlings, a couple of emergencies, just insane. And you've been working weird hours, what's up with that?"

"We try to have someone from the office in the store at all times," Amanda explained as she perused the menu, "but yeah, I'm glad it's finally the weekend too. Carla from HR found a few candidates for me to interview, so I conducted my first interviews yesterday. It was nerve-wracking, but I did find one to bring bak for a second interview. Gosh, the pecan waffles look great."

"They do," Robin agreed. "I think I'll be boring and stick with bacon, eggs, and toast."

The roommates kept up a steady chatter during breakfast, lingering until the first stores opened. "Now, this may sound strange, but the best place to buy khakis is in the men's department," Robin said as she entered their third store. "No one will blink an eye at you bringing in men's pants into the ladies' dressing room."

"If you're sure," Amanda said, a little nervous. "I'm just starting to get used to the idea of wearing pants, and now men's pants?"

"We'll get you some cute girl's pants too," Robin promised as they headed toward the men's department. She took Amanda's elbow, guiding her to a display. "Come on, girlfriend."

"How do I know what size to pick?" she asked nervously.

"We measured you last night, remember? I'd forgotten you were so ticklish," Robin said, smiling at the memory. She dropped Amanda's arm as they stopped in front of the display. She rummaged through, extracting multiple pairs of pants in several sizes and lengths. "This way," she commanded. Amanda followed her friend, wondering what she'd gotten herself in to.

Robin ushered her into a dressing room, and Amanda shyly tried on several pair until they found the right combination. "It still feels a little strange, but I like it," she commented as she stuck her hands in her pockets. "Skirts are more forgiving, these will show if I gain any weight."

"Then limit waffles to once a week," Robin riposted saucily. "You look good in those, Amanda. Come on, let's find you some cute jeans and some tops to go with them. Something to wear if you ever get another date."

"I'm sure someone will come along," Amanda said as she pulled her own pants back on. "How much am I spending today?"

"A lot, but it should last for a while. And they're having a good sale, so that helps," Robin pointed out as she dumped the unwanted pairs on a table. "Oh, look, these are cute!"

Too much money and several stores later, Amanda and Robin collapsed in a coffee shop to fuel up for the trip home. "I never spent that much money at once," Amanda complained, "are you sure I needed that last outfit?"

"Hey, it accentuated your curves in a very nice way," Robin said as she stirred her coffee. "You'll get lots of attention in it, yet you'll still be modestly covered. So, any prospects for dates?"

"No. The men my age at the store are either dating or married," Amanda said slightly defensively.

Robin started to say something else, but changed her mind. Instead, she suggested, "Let's have a cookout in the apartment courtyard soon. We can reserve the space and invite all of our friends, provide the charcoal and sides, and let everyone else bring whatever meat they want to grill. You could invite people from work."

"That does sound like fun," Amanda admitted, "but I don't know much about planning parties. I wasn't allowed to have birthday parties growing up, and my parents didn't have many parties that weren't family related. I guess I could invite Sandy and Kent and his wife."

"There you go, that's the spirit!" Robin said, grinning. "I'll invite my cousin, Tom, he just moved here to work for the drilling company. He's single, our age, dark hair, a lot of fun."

"You have me talked into it," Amanda admitted, "so how do we go about planning this soirée?"

"Leave it up to me, girlfriend," Robin said, patting her hand. "I'll plan us a blow out that will be remembered for years to come."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Amanda mumbled before downing the rest of her coffee. "Are we done shopping? I'm ready to get home and rest."

"I guess we are. Let's rock and roll."

The apartment complex had a courtyard with a couple of grills, scattered tables and benches, and an entrance to the game room. Robin and Amanda chose to pay the small fee for the party shade and use of the grills, game room and bathroom. Word got out, and soon they were nearly overrun with old school friends and work friends.

Just as the party was getting underway, Robin's cousin, Tom, showed up. Robin introduced them, saying, "Y'all will get along great. Amanda, this is Tom. Tom, this is my roommate and good friend Amanda. You're both smart, so have fun getting acquainted." She dashed off to check on the grills.

Amanda looked at the handsome, dark-haired man, feeling shy, not sure what to say. Finally, she asked, "How long have you been here, Tom?"

He smiled, showing slightly crooked, but nice teeth. "A couple of months now. Robin says you work for Jenkins. I hear we buy a lot of supplies from you."

She nodded. "Yes, you do. So, Tom, what do you do with the drilling company? And would you mind helping me with the platters?"

"Not at all," he said, picking up a platter and following her to the grills. "I'd be happy to help. Now, what I do is I'm one of the new engineers who is overseeing a small portion of the operations. What do you do?"

She took a platter from him, arranging wieners and hamburger patties on the grill. "Thanks. I'm the inventory manager, just got promoted. So, do you attend a church here yet?"

"No, not yet, but Robin has been asking if I'd go with her family," he said smoothly, "but I'm open to suggestions. You don't attend the same church she does, do you?"

"I attend Holy Redeemer," she answered, "and I'd love to have you come in the morning."

"We'll see," he said, handing her the tongs. "Are there any places to go dancing here? I love a good two-step."

She started taking up finished dogs and burgers. "I've only been to a dance at Robin's church, and it was more of a family night out event. I did go to a barbecue place recently that has a small dance floor."

"I'll take these to the table," he said, "but think about it. Hey, any beer at this party?"

She shook her head. "Unless someone brought it, not, only soft drinks, tea, and bottled water. Help yourself, though, they are over at the ice chests near the volleyball court."

As Tom walked off, Amanda rearranged the wieners and patties, thinking. He's handsome, seems nice. I guess I could go out with him. She looked up and caught sight of Sandy striding toward her, and her heart jumped. Sandy made it, she thought happily, it's good to see her. She looks really cute in those shorts and that polo. She smiled at the store manager, admiring her shapely legs. She's usually in slacks or jeans, I don't get to see her legs that often.

"Hey, Amanda, can I help with anything?" Sandy asked as she drew even with her.

"Sure. Would you hand me that empty platter? I have more food ready to take off the grill." Amanda accepted the platter, smoothly transferring the grilled meat to the platter and handing it back to Sandy. "Now if you'll hand me that other platter, I think the corn is ready."

"So how did you get stuck back here with the grills?" Sandy asked, "I saw you talking to that guy as I was walking up."

"He's Robin's cousin, Tom, he just moved here," Amanda explained, "and to be honest, I like it back here. I don't have to talk to as many people." She grabbed the tongs, checking the corn, declaring, "They are ready. Thanks." She took the last platter, plopping the foil wrapped corn to the final platter. "I guess I have to be social now, I'd rather hang back and talk with you."

"Oh, really?" Sandy smiled, secretly pleased, but mildly protesting, "But what about Tom? He seemed interested in you."

"I really didn't talk to him that long," Amanda said, closing the grill cover, "so I guess he's nice enough. Let's go get something to eat," she suggested, wanting to change the subject.

Sandy smiled, following the younger woman to the tables groaning with food. She fixed a plate and followed Amanda to a pair of lawn chairs in the corner. "So whose idea was this?"

"Robin's, of course, she loves parties. I've never thrown one on my own, so I'm following her lead." She dug into her food, lapsing into silence for several minutes to concentrate on eating. "This is really good, if I do say so myself."

Sandy wiped her mouth, nodding agreement. Before she could ask Amanda anything else, Tom came over, bearing three small plates with cookies. "I come bearing deserts," he said, placing the paper plates on the small table between the women. He dragged up a chair, sinking down contentedly. "I'm Tom Brice, Robin's cousin."

Sandy shook his offered hand politely. "Cassandra Marcus, Jenkins store manager," she replied. "You work for Butler Drilling, I hear. Your company buys a lot of supplies from us, and we appreciate the business."

"Thank you, Cassandra. It's convenient to be able to get odds and ends without having to wait on supply trucks. So, do you go to church with Amanda here?"

"I haven't settled on a church," she demurred. She grabbed a cookie, stuffing it in her mouth to avoid elaborating on her non-church habits.

He smiled. "I confess that I haven't gone much lately, but I'll try going with Amanda here. What time are services?"

As Amanda discussed the times for the different services, Sandy watched them closely. She felt jealousy rising over the attention he was showing to Amanda, but was a little puzzled by Amanda's polite, but unenthusiastic responses. He seems to be attracted to her, but not the other way around, Sandy noted. Damn it, I need to stop this. Amanda should go out with him, I can't offer her anything, and it would be against company policy to date someone reporting to me. Not that she's given any indication of liking women.

Sandy soon excused herself and made her escape, finding Kent and his wife, Sarah, talking to some other people she vaguely recognized as being steady customers. "Hi, Sandy," Kent said, "if we are both here, who's minding the store?"

She relaxed, on safer ground. "That's your worry, you're the scheduling king," she teased, reaching into a ice chest for a Dr Pepper. "Who do you have minding the store?"

"Jake Barlett, figured he needed the experience of doing closing by himself," he answered promptly, "and I told him to call you if he had any problems."

"And I'd hand him off to you," she said, relaxing with the light-hearted bantering, "for rank hath its privileges, sir. Hi, Sarah, we're not boring you, are we?"

"Not at all," the petite dark haired beauty said, "It's better than Kent yammering on about people I don't know."

"Now, Sarah, I'm sorry I forget sometimes that you didn't grow up here," Kent said, rubbing his goatee, "I promise to be better about actually introducing you. Hey, mind if I leave you two for a few minutes? I wanted to talk to those guys over there," he said, indicating a small knot of men.

"Go on, dear," Sarah said, making shooing motions. She waited until he had left, then turned to Sandy. "So, it's just us women now. Sandy, it's good to get a chance to talk to you. Kent has a lot of respect for you, says you are a very good manager."

"Thanks," Sandy said, a little surprised. "So, where do you work?"

"I'm working as a secretary at Butler Drilling. Not exactly my dream job, I'd been a paralegal at a small firm when we met at Texas Tech. But Wheatley is a nice town, it's growing on me, far different than where I grew up in hot and humid Houston. Whereabouts are you from?"

"Dallas. Dad had his own electrical business and owned some rent houses, so I helped him with all sorts of maintenance and repairs. Mom worked in admissions at a local college. I went to work for Jenkins while I was pursuing my BBA, and have since been in stores across Texas and New Mexico." Sandy concluded.

"Uh huh. So you moved around a lot?" Sarah prompted.

"Nature of retail management," Sandy replied easily. "After graduation, I started in smaller stores, moved up. I got the chance to convert Collins Hardware into Jenkins Home Improvement Store, so I took it. I needed a change."

The petite woman raised a shapely eyebrow. "A change? I sense there's more than meets the eye here."

Sandy cursed internally. "Well, I was in Albuquerque before this, so it's a bit of a change."

"I'd say Wheatley is quite a change, then," Sarah agreed, "it was even a big change from Lubbock. Do you miss the big city?"

"I do, Sarah, there was more opportunity to go to art galleries, to go to concerts, to get involved with different crowds," Sandy said, "and I didn't feel like I was horrible for wanting a beer or glass of wine with my dinner. I miss that, I miss the museums, the art galleries, having Santa Fe up the road."

"But you left it all," Sarah said, "I'd venture to say you had a compelling reason to leave."

Sandy's gaze wandered, trying to figure out how to answer. She caught sight of Amanda, who was talking with Tom, Robin, Noah, and several of their friends. Amanda had that polite expression that she knew so well that meant, "I'm bored, get me out of here!" She chuckled without thinking, wondering if she should rescue the younger woman. "Ah," Sarah said, following her gaze, "watching Amanda?"

Sandy jerked her attention back, embarrassed at being caught. She drained her soft drink, tossing the can into the nearest trash can. "Sorry, didn't mean to be rude," she said gruffly.

Sarah smiled. "You're protective of Amanda. Kent has commented on it, but I don't think he's caught on why you feel so protective," she said delicately.

"I need to go. Nice talking with you, Sarah," Sandy said abruptly. She stalked off before Sarah could protest, wondering if she should say anything to Robin or Amanda, but decided not to. Maybe I should swing by the store and check on things, she thought as she went to the parking lot.

As she drove off, Sandy cursed herself as a fool and a coward. Sarah acts like she knows something, she thought, so here I am running off again. I'm jealous of Amanda paying attention to any man, but she's off limits, yet I let her talk me into attending parties and dinners with her. When will I ever learn? Sandy pulled into the parking lot of the store, debating about whether or not to go in. Jake will think I don't trust him, that I'm checking up on him. She glanced at the clock on the dash, realizing it was only 8:45. Too early to go home, too late to start anything else. She drummed her fingers indecisively on the steering wheel, finally deciding to go home anyway.

The party was starting to break up around 10:30 when Amanda noticed that Sandy had disappeared. "Have you seen Sandy?" she asked Robin as they started cleaning up.

"Not in a few hours, but I've been busy. So did you and Tom hit it off?" Robin asked eagerly.

Amanda waggled her hand. "Yes and no. He's nice, smart, and is looking for a church home he says, but there wasn't a real spark there."

"Well, I tried," Robin said, shrugging. "He's one of my favorite cousins, so I was hoping you'd hit it off. Say, if you have next Friday night off, the singles group is having a dinner at my church, so maybe you can come. I'm sure Tom would like to escort you, and it would be another chance to see him."

"I'll take a raincheck, I don't work many evenings, but with my new job, I'm not sure of my schedule yet," Amanda replied. Where is Sandy? she wondered.

"You do that," Robin said. "I'm going to see if any of our friends will help clean up, otherwise, we'll be here until midnight." She walked off, leaving Amanda to haul trash bags to the dumpster.

Amanda took the garbage bags, walking back slowly, using patrolling the grounds as an excuse to look for Sandy or her truck. Neither turned up, making her anxious. Did she get a call from the store? Or did I do something to make her mad? She glanced at her watch, making a face. It's probably too late to call her. I'll just have to wait until I see her again. She gave up her search, going back to the pavilion finish cleaning up.

Amanda managed to make it through church the next morning without falling asleep, a major triumph considering that she finally got to bed close to 1:30 the night before. Clean up had taken longer than expected, then Robin was so wound up that they stayed up talking for a while. She yawned as she unlocked the door of the apartment, stumbling into her room to change clothes. Although she was sorely tempted to change back into her pajamas and take a nap, she knew that she needed to start on the online classes for Jenkins U.

She went into the kitchen to make lunch from leftovers, seeing that Robin was still gone. They usually left notes for each other on the whiteboard on the pantry door, and there was no note, which meant Robin was probably going to lunch with Noah after services. So she was on her own, which was fine with her. She fixed a plate, taking it and a coke back with her to her bedroom, setting it down as she waited for her laptop to start up.

After she had completed the first session, Amanda had finished her lunch and was contemplating making a pot of coffee. She yawned, deciding to take a nap instead, then get up and do a load of clothes. She took her dishes back to the kitchen, loading them in the dishwasher, then eyeing the box of cookies. Should she? No, she'd wait for supper for cookies. She crashed on her bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

"Sandy! Why did you leave without telling me goodbye?" Amanda asked the store manager, catching up to her in a white hallway.

The taller woman turned, a sad smile on her face. "You were paying too much attention to Tom," she said, reaching to touch Amanda's cheek. "I felt left out, abandoned."

"I don't understand," Amanda said, placing her hand over Sandy's. "I was being polite, Robin was trying to fix me up with him. I was bored, I wanted you to come over and give me an excuse to leave the conversation."

"I'm sorry, Amanda. I can't do that for you, you have to find a man to date."

Amanda stepped closer, drawn to the older woman. "Why is everyone concerned about my dates or lack thereof?"

"You don't want everyone to think you're a freak, do you? Only freaks want to kiss other women," Sandy said quietly.

Amanda stood, stunned, looking up at Sandy's dear face. "But I've never said anything," she said, confused. "How did you know? I mean, maybe I just haven't met the right man yet. Jimmy is so uptight, and Tom is nice, but I didn't feel anything for him. Why can't I just go out with my girlfriends and be normal?"

Sandy didn't say anything, just ran her fingers through Amanda's short locks. "You don't have to say anything," she whispered.

Amanda felt her eyes widen as she reached her hand up, tracing Sandy's jawline. She leaned into Sandy's body, drawn as if by magnetic force, lips touching.

"Yo, girlfriend, you awake?" Robin's voice boomed outside her door.

Amanda woke abruptly, nerves jangling, painfully aroused, excited and deeply embarrassed by her vivid dream. "I am now," she called back, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She glanced at her alarm clock, noting it was late afternoon. "I'll be out in a minute," she said as she got up. I kissed Sandy in my dream. Oh, God, how will I face her now?

"Hey sleeping beauty," Robin crooned as Amanda opened her door, "last night must have knocked you out! I finished the load you started in the washer, so now all you have to do is put it away. I should get roommate of the year for that," she teased.

"You really should," Amanda agreed as the wisps of her vivid dream started fading. Do I really want to kiss Sandy? she wondered. "I didn't mean to leave a load in the washer, I owe you."

"No big deal," Robin said easily. "Hey, are you going to evening services, or skipping? You have about five minutes if you're going, otherwise, we can pull out leftovers and watch TV tonight. Or watch a movie, your choice."

Amanda groaned, covering her eyes. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I'll skip. I'm just too tired to go tonight. Think God will hold it against me?"

"No, he won't. Say, I just bought the Captain America movie at the secondhand store, want to watch that? Big buff guy, handsome face, good versus evil. What do you say? I'll pull out some leftovers and heat them up."

"Sure," Amanda said, starting to wake up more. "Sounds like a good idea." She yawned, trying to wake up completely. "I'm going to change into my pajamas, though."

"I'll put mine on in a moment. You go ahead, I'll get dinner ready." Robin playfully pushed Amanda in the direction of her room before turning back to the refrigerator.

Amanda entered her room, quickly changing into her pajamas. She saw her cell phone on the dresser and decided to check for messages, not that she was expecting any. There was a text from Tom, asking if she wanted to go to dinner one night. She picked up her calendar (the little gift one from the drug store) and thumbed through it, checking her work schedule. "I'm free Tuesday or Thursday night," she texted back, "check with me tomorrow night. Thanks." Maybe we'll hit if off better without so many people around, she thought as she laid her phone back down.

Robin had plates and glasses of tea on the coffee table when Amanda emerged. "Ready to start?" she asked. Amanda nodded. Robin hit the play button, then flipped up an end of the fuzzy throw she kept on the couch. "Make yourself comfortable," she invited. Amanda sat, pulling the soft blanket over her knees, reaching for her plate.

Just as the opening sequence started, Amanda heard her phone. Robin groaned, but hit the pause button while Amanda struggled to get to her room without tripping or dropping her plate. She managed to answer it before it stopped ringing, surprised to hear Sandy's voice on the other end. "Hey, sorry I cut out without telling you," Sandy said, "but I was tired, and it looked like you were pretty busy with the party."

"That's okay," Amanda said, feeling a rush of relief. Impulsively, she said, "Robin and I were about to watch a movie, want to come join us?" There was a moment of silence before Sandy agreed and said she'd be right over. Sandy disconnected, remembering this time to put the phone on the charger before she went back and announced, "That was Sandy. I invited her over for the movie."

"Cool," Robin said, "if you don't mind me staying in my jammies."

"Ah, no," Amanda said, suddenly aware what she'd just done. Should she insist they get dressed again? But if it were Margaret or one of their other friends, she wouldn't think twice about it.

A short time later, Sandy arrived, looking good in blue shorts and a white Puma t-shirt. "Hope I didn't crash anything," she said as Robin got up to fix another plate. She sat gingerly on the edge of the couch, wondering why she agreed to come over.

"No, you're fine," Robin said before Amanda could say anything. "Amanda, scoot over, give Sandy a little room. Grab a corner of the blanket and toss it over your legs, Sandy. I hope you like hot dogs and chips, that's all that was left from last night. Amanda, hand me the remote, please."

The three women managed to settle back as the movie restarted. Amanda was aware of her bare legs touching Sandy's, and how good it felt. Robin sat on the other side of her, a warm, reassuring presence. I guess I should just enjoy this, Amanda thought, trying to concentrate on the movie.

Sandy managed to relax enough to finish her dinner before sitting back against the couch, skin tingling where it touched Amanda's leg. I'm playing with fire, she scolded herself, glancing at Amanda's profile, but I can't help myself. She calls, and I come running. Good thing Robin is here. She tried to relax, just enjoy the movie and the nearness of the younger woman.

After the movie was over, Robin suddenly asked, "Did anyone say anything to you about your new haircut this morning? I really like it, I may have to get mine cut shorter too. It's cute! I never knew you had a little wave in your hair."

"I never knew it either," Amanda confessed, running a hand over her hair. "I did get some funny looks, but no one said anything to me, and I'm surprised. I figured one of the older women would have fussed at me." She sighed. "I'll really get it for not going to evening services."

"So people in your church feel they have the right to dictate your hairstyle and your attendance?" Sandy asked, curious.

Amanda turned to face Sandy, seeing the inquisitive look in her gray-green eyes. "We're all accountable for each other's behavior," she explained, "and the elders can issue corrections and ask you to confess your sins and repent."

"Why? I'm not trying to stir trouble, but I never heard that when I attended church growing up," the store manager said.

"The letters of Paul," she explained, "give the authority to call out behaviors."

Robin interjected, "We believe in certain rules, but my church feels like it's between you and God how you act and dress and look. Sorry, Amanda, I just had to say it."

"It's okay," Amanda said, "but this keeps coming up. I'll bet I get a call tomorrow from one of the elders. They're already calling some of the young men who have to work Sundays."

"Oh, really? Any of our employees?" Sandy asked.

"Yes," Amanda answered, "but they're calling the men at home, so you wouldn't know about it. I'll bet willing to bet that they'll call my parents as soon as they return from their cruise."

"But you are an adult and live on your own," Sandy pointed out, "so why would they call your parents?"

"Because our church still believes that women are subject to their fathers or their husbands. People my age are rebelling, and several have left Holy Redeemer over this issue," she explained uncomfortably, "before they left on vacation, Dad mentioned that he'd received several calls asking him why he let me move out. Mom says he told them in no uncertain terms that he could not legally keep me from moving out, or force me to marry Jimmy."

Sandy stared at her, resisting asking if she were nuts to put up with these restrictions. Instead, she commented, "Well, they'd better not call anyone at the store complaining. Say, do you know if Jimmy ever talked to Rev. Matthews about adding another service?"

"No, I don't. I doubt he'd do it, though, since he says you are supposed to attend services Sunday morning and night, and Bible study or church dinners on Wednesday nights. That's the way it has been since Holy Redeemer was established by Pastor Matthews' father."

"A case of 'this is the way we've always done it', eh? I'm so tired of that attitude," Sandy grumbled, "it's hard enough to combat it at work, trying to get department supervisors to manage their workflow on the system. We still have a few trying to turn everything in on old Collins paper forms."

"I know," Amanda agreed.

Robin yawned and stood up, gathering dishes as she announced, "I don't know about you two, but I'm headed for bed. Goodnight."

Sandy glanced at her watch. "Oh, God," she groaned, "I didn't mean to keep you up."

"It's okay, I enjoyed your company," Amanda said shyly as Robin disappeared into her room. "It was nice having you here. I wish we could spend more time together."

"I do too," Sandy admitted, "but really, I shouldn't."

"Why not?" Amanda asked.

"Because I'm your boss, and it looks like favoritism," Sandy explained, "and it's a huge can of worms I don't need to open, not with everything else going on."

"Oh." Amanda reached out and took Sandy's hand without thinking. "I just like your company. I've never had any friends who wanted to go see art or museums or discuss philosophy." She stopped, fumbling to figure out how to say what she felt. Sandy's hand felt so good in hers, warm, strong, comforting, yet exciting. She stared into the gray-green eyes, feeling herself swaying toward the older woman, but catching herself and standing abruptly. "I do need to get some sleep," she stammered.

Sandy jumped up guiltily. "I do too. I enjoyed our evening, and see you at work."

"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow. Um, did you need to sit in on my meeting with the new vendor rep?" she asked, embarrassed.

"No, that's your job now. You'll do fine, Amanda," Sandy reassured her, relieved to talk about work. Sandy paused, hand on the knob, saying quietly, "I do enjoy spending time with you, it's just complicated. Do you understand?"

"I think so, it's like Dad started my brother and me as clerks on the floor in high school, not in the office."

"Yes, something like that." Sandy looked into Amanda's brown eyes, wishing she could do and say more. She allowed herself to give Amanda a brief one-armed hug, then let herself out.

Amanda locked the door behind her, wondering if Sandy felt the same desires that she did. It's like I want to date her, she thought, but that's wrong. She's my boss, and she's a woman. But I have so much more in common with her than with Jimmy or Tom or any other men I know. She did know from whisperings that this feeling was considered wrong by her church. Can I talk to Robin about it? Or does her church forbid the feelings too? She walked back to her room, turning off lights as she went, pondering these feelings without answers.

Kent ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hold on to his temper as he recounted his day to his wife. "Sarah, we've bent over backwards, but I'm going to have to draw the line somewhere. Several of my department managers are now refusing to work weekends. It's getting to the point where I'm having people call in sick, then I overhear them talking about going to services. If I push too hard, it makes them look like martyrs. Any suggestions?"

Sarah propped her chin in her hand, thinking. "If Wheatley didn't have such a small town mentality, I'd say give them the choice of working when scheduled or being fired. Of course, I'm lucky, my job is really Monday through Friday, no overtime, but if I refused to show up, I'd be fired without a glance. Look at it this way, are there younger people who could be promoted if you had to fire these department heads?"

He thought about it, turning the idea over in his head. "Well, it's possible," he conceded, "and I hadn't thought of it that way. Look at Amanda, she's adjusted well."

"She has," Sarah agreed. Should I mention that I think Amanda and Sandy are attracted to each other? she wondered. I'd better not. Just because I think they'd make a cute couple doesn't mean Kent would understand. When I married Kent, I had a feeling he'd move back home. He'd never be happy in Houston, where I grew up. Taking that scholarship to Tech got me out of the humidity, and I met my husband, but I miss the more open-minded attitude of the people I grew up with. "Huh?"

"I said, where did you go, Sarah? Didn't you hear my last question?"

"I'm sorry, Kent, I was off in lala land. What did you ask?"

He repeated, "I asked if you wanted to me to fix dinner here, or if you wanted to go out."

She pondered the question for a moment, then decided, "Let's go out. I never go to the store last weekend, and I don't feel like sink trap soup."

He looked puzzled. "What's sink trap soup?"

Sarah laughed, thinking of her grandmother. "It was a saying of my grandmother's. If she only had odds and ends left, she'd toss everything in a big pot to make soup or stew, calling it sink trap soup. She said it was better than tossing it down the sink trap, as she called the disposal. Dad said sometimes it was just edible, sometimes it was inspired, you just never knew. So let's go to the cafe and have something better than sink trap soup."

"Sounds good to me. But will you drive? I'm exhausted, one of our stockers called in sick and I wound up loading and unloading all day. I'm not used to that any more," Kent groaned, rubbing his sore arms.

Sarah smiled. "If you'd go to the gym with me, it wouldn't be a problem." He stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed, "Promises, promises." He blushed at the implication as she gathered her purse and keys. "Let's go eat," she said as they got in her car.

"Fine by me." Kent agreed as he went to the passenger side of her car.

They arrived at the cafe and placed their order, making small talk until their meals. Soon after they got their food, Pastor Matthews and his wife, Viola, were seated at the table next to theirs. Kent groaned inside, hoping that the preacher wouldn't say anything to them, but tonight was not his night. "Kent, good to see you," the older minister boomed. "We don't see you often enough at church these days."

"I'm not always able to come," Kent said, staring at his plate.

"A man is supposed to praise the Lord and rest on the Sabbath," the minister continued as the waitress set his plate down. "Thanks, hon," he said to her, then continued talking to Kent. "When Albert Collins owned the store, he followed God's commandments and didn't open on Sundays, and closed in the evenings so that men could have supper with their families. And yet I hear that the store will be open even longer hours. Have you lost your love for the Lord?"

Sarah kept her mouth full to resist the temptation to tell the old buzzard off. She did notice that his wife ignored the harangue, concentrating on her own dinner. She's probably used to this, Sarah thought, but I sure wish that he would stop pestering Kent.

Kent turned to face the minister, saying slowly, "I don't make the rules, I just follow them. Mr. Collins could set his own schedule, but he sold the store to Jenkins, so we have to follow their policies and rules. It's not whether or not I love the Lord, it's whether or not I want to keep my job."

"You could at least set your own schedule to be off on the Sabbath," Matthews pointed out.

"Perhaps, but then Sandy would have to work every Sunday, and that would not be fair to her," Kent explained.

"Humph. Maybe a real man would have stood up and told Jenkins that we are a Godly town, and we don't open on Sundays. But that's what you get when an atheist woman is running things. She should be married and taking care of a family instead of disrupting our families," the pastor said smugly.

Kent's eyes blazed with anger that he worked hard to contain. "Sandy is the best manager I've ever worked for, and is more tolerant of trying to work with people than most. She stuck her neck out to keep our hours shorter for the first few months, so don't go heaping this all on her head."

"Well, she shouldn't be in charge anyway, a man should be," the preacher retorted.

Kent stared at the old windbag, still trying to keep a rein on his temper. "Sir, she is a very good manager, and I appreciate the opportunity to learn from her."

"It's not natural, Kent, not natural at all for a woman to be in charge. Speaking of unnatural, did you see little Amanda Collins' new haircut? First she calls off her engagement to Jimmy, then she moves out of her father's house, now she's wearing pants and cutting her hair! Kent, since her parents are out of town, you should really speak to her about her disrespect for the Lord."

Viola suddenly spoke up. "Carl, we should let this young couple eat in peace."

The pastor deflated rapidly. "Yes, Viola," he said, suddenly staring at his plate.

Sarah had signalled the waitress while the argument was proceeding, and had the rest of their dinners packed and paid for by the time Viola spoke up. "Come on, Kent, we can finish this at home," she said pointedly. "I've already paid."

Kent glanced at the sack with the leftovers, then smiled at his wife. "Thank you, Sarah." He stood, nodding stiffly to the Matthews, then escorted his wife out of the diner. As they got into Sarah's car, Kent asked, "So why didn't the old grump complain about your hair? It's shorter than Amanda's, and you're wearing shorts. Why pick on Sandy?"

Sarah waited to answer until she had pulled out of the parking lot. "I don't know for sure, but I think he's more upset over Amanda, who he's known all of her life. Other than the fact that I'm an outsider, I'm not sure. But didn't you grow up here, and attend Holy Redeemer most of your life?"

"Yes."

"Then that may be the key. I'm not threatening his authority as much since I'm not one of his original flock. I am surprised that he hasn't whaled on your about me not coming to church with you every Sunday. But he sees Sandy as a direct threat to his authority, Kent, and that's why he is lashing out at her. Not only is she keeping his flock from attending services, but she's also the ultimate authority in the store, without a man to keep her in line. Amanda had been on the road to being a wife and mother, but she suddenly changed gears and became independent, making a lot of changes in a hurry. These all feel like direct slaps to him, and he's trying to find a way to get everything back in line."

"Honey, you are right, they are both challenging him." Kent rubbed his ginger goatee, thinking. He laughed. "Bet he doesn't know that you usually drive when we go places. Heavens! Allowing a woman to drive a man around!"

She smiled as she pulled into their garage. "I hadn't thought about that, Kent. It just seems natural to take turns driving. My mom did most of the driving when I was growing up, Dad hated to drive and was happy for her to drive."

Kent commented, "I'd wondered why your mom did all of the driving when you took me home, but I never thought about asking. My dad did all the driving, except when Mom took us to doctors' and dentists' appointments during the day. Are you still hungry?"

"Not especially."

He popped the leftovers into the fridge, then pulled her into his arms for a lingering kiss. "I have other ideas, ones you put in my head earlier, you evil temptress." She laughed as they raced to the bedroom.

Sandy grabbed the phone, stunned at hearing the ringtone. Why didn't I delete her contact information? she wondered as she answered it. "Hey, Cory, why are you calling me?"

An easy laugh floated through the phone as her ex-girlfriend said, "Well, hello and how are you doing, Sandy? I thought I'd check on you, seeing as how I'll be close in a few hours."

"Huh?" Sandy sat back in her chair, stunned.

"I'm driving to Amarillo on business, and will be there for a few days. Since Wheatley is about an hour away, I thought you could come here to meet me for dinner one night."

Sandy rubbed her free hand over her face, conflicted. On the one hand, Cory had left her, but on the other hand, she was curious how her ex was doing. It was hard not to react after their years together. "I am free tomorrow night," she said unwillingly, "and I could meet you for dinner. Name the place and time, and I'll be there."

"That's the Sandy I know. I promise, I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Sandy bit back a sarcastic reply. "I'm fine, Cory."

"Good. I'll text you later with where and when. I'm looking forward to seeing you."

"Okay. See you tomorrow," Sandy said. She disconnected, dropping the phone on her desk, lost in thought. Why is Cory wanting to see me now? What does she really want? Sandy thought darkly. She scowled at her computer, trying to remember what she was doing before Cory's call interrupted her train of thought. "This is useless," she growled, logging out, "I'll go tour the floor."

The store manager went downstairs, randomly visiting departments, checking to see how things were going. She was pleased to see that most of her employees were busy helping customers, and that the store was fairly packed for a Monday morning. Duh, Labor Day sales, she remembered. She rounded the corner to flooring, pausing to chat with several people who were looking at options.

"Ma'am," a man's voice called out, "do you have a minute?"

She turned, facing an older man, remembering her conversation with him. "Vernon, good to see you again," she said, holding out her hand. "How did the engineered hardwood work for you?"

He shook her hand, answering, "Good, thank you. I saw you and wanted to say thanks for your help," he said, beaming. "It was as easy as you promised, my wife and I did the living room in a day. Our knees were a bit stiff the next day from all that kneeling, but those knee pads you pointed out worked well."

"I'm glad to hear that," Sandy said warmly, "so how can we help you today?"

The retired farmer replied, "I'm thinking of replacing the rest of the flooring in the house. The living room was fairly easy, and I'm thinking the bedrooms would be too, but I don't know anything about tile, and that's what my wife wants for the bathrooms and kitchen. Any ideas?"

Sandy motioned for one of the flooring department employees to come over. "Randy, do we have contacts with local installers yet?"

The young man nodded. "Yes, we do. How can I help you, sir?"

Sandy said, "Randy, Vernon here needs a quote for installation of tile. Randy will take care of you from here, but don't hesitate to ask if I can help, Vernon."

"Thank you, ma'am." Vernon touched a finger to his feed store cap, then turned his attention to the tablet that Randy held. As the two men put their heads together over flooring options, Sandy continued her trek through the store, exchanging greetings with customers and employees alike. She made a mental note to ask Mary if IT had secured Wi-Fi links to tablets, and if so, could they order some for each department. It appeared that Randy had decided on his own that it would be easier to place orders with his personal tablet rather than taking the customer back to the work station.

Sandy finally went back upstairs to her office, satisfied that things were going smoothly today. She gave in to temptation to swing by Amanda's office, just to see the younger woman. As she entered, she saw that Amanda was on the phone and started to back out, but Amanda motioned her to take a seat. "Pastor Matthews, I am living on my own, paying my own way. Dad and Mom agreed I should go ahead and move in with Robin, even encouraged it. No, I don't think God cares what I wear or how I wear my hair. Look, this is a company phone line, and I am not supposed to keep tied up with personal calls during working hours. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." She hung up forcefully, face flushed with anger. "Sandy, I can't believe the gall of that man! Calling me at work to tell me that I'm breaking God's rules."

"He's harassing you?" she asked, concern rising.

Amanda blew out a frustrated breath. "First Jimmy corners me in on the floor early this morning, then Pastor Matthews calls. They are both telling me that I'm being evil and wicked, blah, blah. Sometimes I wish I could find a church that didn't care so much."

Baffled, Sandy asked, "So why don't you? It's a free country, so you should be able to change churches if it makes you happy."

"What?" Amanda asked, startled by the idea.

"Um, yeah, Amanda, you can choose which church to go to or choose not to go at all. But you're not evil just for cutting your hair, that's ridiculous. I'll be that your pastors wear mixed thread clothing, and if they were really observant, they'd not shave or cut their own hair."

Amanda sat back, still thinking about Amanda's off-handed first comment. "Are you serious about saying I should change churches?"

"Not should, but could. Anyway, I was just dropping by to see how things were going with you. Did you hire a new assistant yet?" Sandy asked, leaning back in the chair.

"Yes, she'll start next week," Amanda replied, "her name is Becky Brown, and she's transplant. Her husband transferred here with the drilling company, and Becky has worked as an assistant or secretary in a variety of places, most recently in inventory with one of our competitors."

"Fantastic," Sandy said, smiling. "Once Becky gets up to speed, that should help you quite a bit. Where did you find her?"

"Carla in HR found her. I'm not sure how, but she did the prescreening, and I did the final interview this morning. We offered her the job immediately, and Becky said she could start Monday. I'm relieved and nervous at the same time, Sandy." Amanda ran fingers through her short hair, thinking. "Carla added a course to my load, one in management. Now I'll be really busy in my off hours."

"You can do some of your coursework here, you know," Sandy pointed out. "Anyway, I guess I should get back to work. The store is pretty busy today since it is a holiday."

"I noticed," Amanda commented, "oh, don't forget that Jake's BBQ is catering dinner for the store. You don't want to miss his brisket, it is fork tender and out of this world. Kent and I made the arrangements."

"Remind me when it arrives," Sandy said as she levered herself out of the chair. "By the way, I'll be leaving early tomorrow, I have dinner plans with an old friend tomorrow night in Amarillo."

"Have fun," Amanda said. Before she could say anything else, her phone rang. She waved to Sandy as the store manager left her office. "Jenkins, this is Amanda speaking," she said smoothly.

Sandy jingled her keys nervously as she entered the steakhouse, finally dropping them in her purse as she spotted her ex. She wound her way through the tables until she reached Cory, awkwardly placing her purse in her chair and giving the other woman a brief hug. "Hi, Cory," she said as she took her seat, eyeing the dark-haired woman, "how is your partner?"

"Michelle is fine, thank you, and we're thinking of getting married," Cory replied, dark eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Married?" Sandy repeated, surprised at the news.

"Yes, haven't you kept up? After the Supreme Court decision, we can get married, so we're thinking about it. So how are you doing, my dear? Have you gotten over me yet?"

Sandy looked up as the waitress approached and placed her drink order before answering, "Yes, I have. You left me for Michelle, and now you're thinking of marrying her. Anyway, what are you doing in town?"

"Business. I'm back in sales, so I have the whole southwest as my territory, and on target to make bonus this quarter. How is the store?"

Sandy waggled a hand. "Eh, up and down. Really good weekend, we went about 20% over projected sales, and most weeks we hit our target. I think people are finally understanding that it ain't Collins any longer, and they just have to deal with it. We recently started installed sales, and that is helping with flooring, roofing, fencing, plumbing, and other areas. Plus it means we're helping out local businesses connect with newer residents who otherwise wouldn't know that these businesses existed. It's a win-win situation."

"Good." Cory paused as they placed their orders, the reached for the bread basket. "How's your love life? I do worry about you, Sandy."

Sandy buttered her bread, waiting until the waitress had taken their order to muse, "Nonexistent, Cory. I'm trying not to be bitter, since you left me, but it's hard. And I rashly accepted this position in a small town, where I knew I would have little or no chance of finding a partner, but I figure I'll be there only a year or so before I get things smooth enough to request a transfer. Maybe I'll get a transfer to a more gay friendly state, then I can think about my love life."

Cory nodded sagely, interpreting. "So you're afraid to ask any women out, thinking you'd be tarred and feathered. I get it, Sandy. You're not a bad woman, and we did have some good times, but your habit of working 80 hours a week killed any romance years ago. Although I travel quite a bit, Michelle and I make time for each other every week, taking time for a date night. So, all that aside, have you even met anyone you're interested in?"

"Well, yes, but she's not available," Sandy answered slowly, "she works in the store, is ten years my junior, and is straight. Plus she's very religious, so completely off limits."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," Cory said sincerely, patting Sandy's arm in a well-remembered gesture. "The age difference you could work with, but the rest? I can see the problems. So let me guess, you're falling in love with her, and you're not sure how to handle it. If she weren't working with you or that religious, would you ask her out?"

"Yeah, I would," Sandy confessed, "She enjoys the same types of movies I do, reads voraciously, and is so easy to talk to. Cory, I've fallen for her, and I think she's at least interested in being friends. She broke up with her fiancé several months ago, and I just don't know what to do."

Cory waited until their plates had been set down before asking, "Do you think she's interested in you?"

"I don't think she knows anything about gays and lesbians, Cory."

"You're avoiding the question. Are you falling for her? What would you do if you didn't work together?"

"You already asked that," Sandy pointed out, avoiding answering the question. "So how is Shelby? Does she miss me?"

Cory rolled her eyes, but answered, "Yes, that cat does miss you, but she's doing well, thanks for asking. Michelle is a cat person, which helps. Answer my question, dear."

Sandy ate for a few minutes in silence, turning it over in her mind before finally confessing, "If she didn't work with me, I'd be tempted to ask her out on a real date. I'd romance her, see if she responded. But we do work together, and she reports to me. It's not like I can leave the store, or she can leave the store, and that's the only way we could date."

Cory pointed out slyly, "That didn't stop you with me. You were my manager until I left the company."

"Yes, and I should not have made you choose," Sandy replied, "even though you did get a much better job that way."

"So at least be friends with her, if you can," Cory suggested. "See how she responds. Give yourself a chance for happiness, Sandy."

"I'll think about it," Sandy agreed finally. "Now, can we talk about something other than my non-love life?"

"Sure! Want to split dessert with me when we're done with our steaks?" Cory asked, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Yeah, we can," Sandy gave in. "Seen any good art exhibits lately?"

Alfred and Charlotte Collins had barely been back a few hours when Pastor Matthews rang their doorbell, insisting that he needed to talk to them about a dire matter immediately. As they reluctantly let him in, he made a beeline for their living room couch, seating himself. "Brother Alfred, Sister Charlotte, have you seen your daughter since you have been back?"

"No, no yet," Alfred said, "but we plan to have dinner with her in a few days. Why do you ask?"

Pastor Matthews shook his head of thick white hair sadly as he intoned, "It is really shocking, she needs your guidance desperately. She cut her hair and has been dressing immodestly! And when Jimmy tried to correct her, she told him she didn't care! Now I know you let her go live with her friend Robin, and I think her friend has been an unintentionally bad influence on her. The young woman means well, but she is forgetting her Godly upbringing."

"I see," Alfred said slowly, looking at his wife, who gave him a look that said, 'I'm not touching this, Bert.' He cleared his throat, marshaling his thoughts. "Pastor Matthews, I know you mean well, but Charlotte and I agreed that Amanda is mature enough to live on her own. When she decided not to marry James, we agreed with her reasons. We've raised her to be a good woman, and I'm not going to tell her what to do. I don't think God cares how long or short her hair is, or what she wears. So no disrespect, but do not tell me how to handle my family."

The minister sat, shocked. "What are you saying? Suppose all of our young women did what they wished?"

"They'd be happier," Albert said, standing abruptly. "If you'll excuse us, we're still recovering from a very long vacation, and are still unpacking." He took the minster's elbow, propelling him to the front door. "God bless, and goodnight," he said escorting the older man out the front door.

Charlotte sat still on the couch, stunned at her husband's blunt defense of their daughter. "Bert, I'm surprised," she said as he came back into the living room.

"I know, it will get all over town now that I'm mean to a man of God," Albert groaned as he sank next to her, reaching for her hand. "I'm tired of being told what to think and do by that old windbag." Bert sighed. "I should have followed my instincts and trained her to take over the store since Henry wasn't interested in it. Does it bother you that I can't believe that crap any longer?"

Charlotte reached up, stroking his dear face as she answered, "It does, but it doesn't. I never thought that Jimmy was a good match for her. But I want our daughter to be happy, and if she finds someone who is her equal, I'd be happy." She was silent a moment, then suddenly smiled. "And admit it, you enjoyed seeing me in shorts on our vacation."

He grinned slowly, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah, I did. You have fantastic legs, my dearest love, and I enjoyed seeing them. But seriously, what are we going to do?"

"Let Amanda live her own life, and we live ours," she answered. "We'll catch flack, you know, and possibly be shunned."

He shrugged. "Frankly, I don't care any more. Come on, I'm starving, let's see if there's any food left in the kitchen."

"Sounds like a good idea," she agreed, "or better yet, let's be completely decadent and order a pizza."

He smiled. "I'll go for the latter in a heartbeat!" They kissed to seal the deal, then Albert reached for the phone to call the pizza palace.

Amanda's parents had called to let her know they were back from vacation, saying they'd see her when she was available. She had little time for visiting between work and her online classes, barely able to keep up with chores and laundry. Finally, though, she had a day off and arranged to go to their house for lunch.

She let herself into the house, calling out, "Mom, Dad, I'm home!"

"In the dining room," Charlotte called back. Amanda dropped her purse and keys on the entry hall table, following her mother's voice and the good smells to the dining room table. "This smells fantastic," she said as she walked into the dining room.

"Thank you. Have a seat," Charlotte said as she hugged her daughter. "Your dad will be along in a moment." Charlotte surveyed Amanda as the younger woman took her seat, surprised but pleased with how she looked. "I like your haircut, Amanda."

"Thanks, Mom, I like it too. I'm saving money on shampoo, but it takes a little longer to style in the morning," she said. "I had no idea that I had a wave in my hair."

"Just like mine, or like it was before it started thinning," Albert said as he entered the room. Amanda stood to hug her dad. He hugged her back tightly before stepping back to look at her. "My little girl, all grown up. And you're wearing jeans! Aren't you afraid that the world will come to an end?" he teased.

"No, Dad, it won't come to an end," she laughed as she took her seat again, "I don't care what the preachers say, this is more comfortable and more practical for work. Now I'm not getting my skirts caught on rough edges or picking up a hem of dust from sweeping along the floors. Robin talked me into the haircut and new wardrobe."

"It will take some getting used to," Charlotte admitted. "Bert, would you ask the blessing?"

Albert reached out to clasp hands with his wife and daughter, offering a quick prayer. He finished and reached for the platter of chicken breasts, helping himself to one before passing it along. "Well, good for Robin," he said as he reached for the fruit salad, "by the way, we had a little visit from Pastor Matthews."

"Oh?" Amanda asked with trepidation. "What did he want?"

"To pontificate about how mixed up you were, blah, blah, blah. I told him that you had our blessing to move after you broke your engagement. Frankly, your mother and I were not that impressed with young Mr. Wilson."

"So you don't mind?"she asked anxiously.

Charlotte passed the rolls as she answered, "No, in fact, we've talked it over and we're pleased with you." She buttered her roll as she formed her thoughts, adding, "We tried to like him, after all, he's going to be a minister, but even though he's a good man, you two always acted more like friends than a young couple in love."

"And I'm starting to get really tired of being told how to live my life," Albert added, "if I think it is okay for my daughter to live on her own and not get married, that's my business, not the pastor's or the elders. I've never been too fond of Pastor Matthews anyway."

Charlotte added, "We didn't have these rules about never cutting women's hair or insisting they wear long dresses and long sleeves when I was younger. He started changing the rules for the women in our church not too long before we married. As much as it pains me to admit, I'm not happy with the direction the church is going either."

Amanda stared at her parents, feeling like part of her world had just tipped over. "Wait, you actually disagree with him? It's not just me starting to feel like something isn't right?" she asked.

"Yes," Albert said, Charlotte nodding agreement. "You know I grew up in a different church, and I'm increasingly unhappy with the way Pastor Matthews is leading the church. I had faint hopes for young Jimmy, but lately he's turned out to be as hidebound as Carl Matthews. This vacation was good for us, we talked to people from different faiths, different backgrounds, and we've decided there is no one way to God, but many."

Charlotte added, "It wasn't until I was talking to women from other backgrounds that I realized how restrictive our church has become since you were born. When you and Henry were small, children often ran around in shorts during the summer, but now even the smallest children are in long dresses or long pants. I always helped your father in the store, but now women are discouraged from working, so as not to usurp the authority of their husbands."

"Oh," Amanda said, stunned. Dad expressing doubt I can understand, but Mom? she wondered. She's always been a rock. "I've been having some doubts too," she said cautiously, "both Jimmy and Pastor Matthews have taken me to task over working so much, and with my promotion, they've redoubled their efforts to get me to quit and marry Jimmy."

"Promotion?" her parents exclaimed simultaneously. Amanda quickly filled them in on her promotion, ending with, "I have a new assistant who is doing the day to day paperwork that I did originally. I'm also taking online classes from both Jenkins U and as soon as I finish them, I'll enroll in the community college to start a business degree."

"That's my girl!" Albert said, grinning hugely. "I'm proud of you."

"Did you know that we discussed having you take over the business since your brother was not interested?" Charlotte asked. "We almost did, but then you were to marry Jimmy, and we knew the church would not approve."

"The church doesn't seem to approve of a lot," Amanda observed. "So tell me more about your vacation."

Charlotte and Albert eagerly filled her in on their vacation, describing the different countries they visited, sights they saw, and people they talked to. Amanda found herself wishing she could go on a trip like that with Sandy. It would be so much fun to go to museums with her, and tour old castles, to try different foods. "So it was worth it?"

"Absolutely. Hey, have you celebrated your promotion?" Albert asked, "We should ask some of your friends to come over for a cookout."

"Not really. Robin and I had a party last month, but it was more Robin's idea than mine."

"Well, let's do it right. We can celebrate your promotion and our return," Albert said, already anticipating the briskets he would smoke. "You just tell us when and how many are coming, and we'll take care of the rest."

"That sounds terrific, Dad," Amanda said, "I sure appreciate it." Her excited grin faded. "So you both still think it was right that I didn't marry Jimmy, even if it means I don't have any immediate prospects for a husband?"

Her parents exchanged glances before Charlotte answered, "You did what was right for you, Amanda. Yes, I would love to see you happy with someone, and I believe it is God's will for you to be married, but you still have time."

"Okay," Amanda said, "I guess I wanted reassurance. I'll give you a list of friends to invite for a party in the next day or so." She glanced at her watch. "I need to get going, I have a lot of homework to do. Thanks for lunch."

After goodbyes were exchanged, Amanda drove to work, thinking about lunch. "I wish I could go on a vacation like they did," she mused out loud, "The only vacations I remember taking when we were growing up were the occasional family reunions or hiking in Palo Duro Canyon, but that's it. I wonder if Sandy has taken vacations? And where?"

Sandy couldn't decide if she was a glutton for punishment or not. She had accepted the invitation to Amanda's promotion party that her parents were throwing, even thought she kept telling herself to stop socializing with the younger woman. It would look funny if I declined, especially since Kent and Sarah are coming.

She was still thinking about her dinner with her ex, Cory, and Cory's suggestion that she go ahead and be friends with Amanda and see where it led. I know where I want it to lead, and that's the problem, she admitted to herself, but I don't know how Amanda feels. I know she likes me as a friend. She drummed her fingers on her desk, looking at the email with the invitation. Got to give her credit, she's come a long way in the past six months. From no computer skills to sending out cute email invitations.

Sandy finally clicked on Reply and wrote, "Count me in." The die is set.

The party was in full swing when Sandy arrived at the Collins' house. She took a deep breath as she climbed the front steps, but before she could reach for the doorbell, Amanda opened the door and ushered her in. "You made it!" she exclaimed happily, "thanks for coming, Sandy! Shall I take your jacket and purse?"

"Sure," Sandy said, handing them over. She watched Amanda disappear down the hallway, turning her attention to the living room opening off the entry hall.

The room was large and comfortable, with overstuffed armchairs, sofas, small tables, and a whole wall of books. Sandy wandered over to gaze at the shelves, reading some of the titles to herself as she waited for Amanda to come back. The variety of topics surprised her, including an impressive collection on southwestern history and art. "Mom and Dad have always been voracious readers," Amanda explained.

Sandy turned to find the dark blonde behind her, interrupting her thoughts. "I see," she said, blinking. Gathering her thoughts, she asked, "So where is everyone?"

Amanda took her arm, guiding her through the house as she said, "Outside on the deck, in the kitchen, or in the dining room. We have people everywhere! Lots of old timers from the store, some of my friends, Robin and Noah, some of my extended family, and some of Mom and Dad's friends. I give it another hour for most of the store people and Mom and Dad's friends to leave." She squeezed Sandy's arm. "I'm glad you came."

Sandy patted Amanda's hand, smiling. "I'm glad I came too. Something smells good."

Amanda led her outside, dropping her arm as they went through the back door. "Dad outdid himself, smoking brisket, several chickens, and a pork roast. Help yourself to food, there's tables set up buffet style. Plates and utensils over there, drinks in the ice chests over there." She lowered her voice. "No alcohol, sorry about that."

"That's okay, I don't mind," Sandy said. She started filling her plate as Amanda wandered off to greet other guests, marveling at the sheer volume of delicious food lining the tables.

As the evening wore on, Amanda's prediction came true, and most of the guests left within an hour or so. Even Robin and Noah had left, with Robin asking if Sandy could run Amanda home later. The temperatures had dropped, making a seat near the fire pit very inviting. Sandy found herself sharing a bench with Amanda near the pit, listening as Charlotte and Albert described their extended cruise and vacation. The smell of the wood smoke combined with the lingering smells of the barbecue took her back to happy memories of parties her parents had thrown when she was young.

Sandy finally relaxed as she listened to the older couple take turns describing their vacation. "The ocean was so incredibly blue," Charlotte said, "I never dreamed water could be that blue, especially growing up here with the muddy waters of West Texas. Sandy, have you done much traveling?"

The store manager answered, "Some, Mrs. Collins. I used to take a week every summer to go somewhere new, but since I moved into store management, it's been much harder to take any vacation time. I did get to go to Germany for nearly two weeks several years ago with a friend." Last good vacation Cory and I took, she thought wistfully, before Cory fell out of love with me and in love with Michelle.

"Germany sounds nice, I'd love to visit some time," Charlotte smiled. "Did you have a reason for going there, or just pick it at random?"

Sandy replied, "My friend had relatives there, so we went to visit them and to see the country. We went in early summer, which was a wonderful time to go." Before she could continue, the house phone rang and Charlotte excused herself to answer it.

"A vacation sounds so nice about now," Amanda said wistfully as her mother signalled for her dad to pick up the other line. She waved to her parents before asking Sandy, "Can you carry me home now, Sandy? I'm tired, and want to get some good sleep before church tomorrow."

"Sure. Did you need to tell your parents goodbye?" Sandy asked.

"No, it sounds like my Aunt Bee is on the line, so they'll be tied up for quite a while." Amanda led Sandy to the guest room to retrieve their jackets and purses. "Besides, I'll see them tomorrow, so no big deal. Ready?"

"I guess so," Sandy said. She followed the younger woman out of the house and down the block, where her truck was. Sandy automatically opened the door for Amanda, then went around to the driver's side. "Will Robin be there?" she asked.

Amanda shook her head. "No, she and Noah were planning to go to the movies, so we'll have the apartment to ourselves."

Sandy put the truck in gear, wondering if Amanda knew how that comment sounded. Get a grip, Cassandra. She's a co-worker and a friend, not a girlfriend. She drove the short distance to the apartment without further comment.

When they arrived, Amanda insisted that Sandy stay for a bit. They sat on the living room couch after Sandy declined offers of any drinks. "So," Amanda said, tucking a leg underneath herself, "what's it like to go overseas? The only real vacations we took were short trips to Palo Duro Canyon to camp or see the musical, 'Texas'."

"Not much different than here, but a very long plane ride," Sandy said, trying to get comfortable. "Direct flight from Dallas was about ten hours, so I tried to sleep as much as possible. Germany is seven hours ahead of us, so when we arrived, it was morning there. The scenery was wonderful, and we visited a lot of museums and did a lot of hiking." She smiled wistfully, thinking of taking pictures of Cory at the Munich Botanical Gardens.

Amanda reached over, taking Sandy's hand in hers. "Sandy, you look sad, what is it about the vacation that made you unhappy?"

Sandy looked into Amanda's concerned eyes, upset that she had let her feelings show. She started to explain, but stopped. Would she understand? She blew out a frustrated breath, unconsciously lacing their fingers together. "It was the friend I went with. A year later, things went sour between us, and Germany was the last vacation we had together."

Amanda looked confused for a moment, then had comprehension dawn on her face. "A girlfriend?" she hazarded.

Sandy hung her head, not willing to make eye contact. "Yeah. Okay, the truth. Cory left me for another woman, one she had started being friends with before we left, so Germany was a bittersweet vacation. She wasn't texting and calling Michelle all the time yet, but she did send her emails several times while we were gone, and talked about her a lot. I was working so many hours that I missed the signs until it was too late. So when she asked me to move out, I asked for a transfer so I wouldn't have to deal with the fall out." Sandy pulled her hand back, rubbing her cheeks, still not looking at Amanda. "I guess you'll be horrified now that I've told you I'm gay, tell me I'm a sinner and all that. I just want to do my job, but I keep getting so many roadblocks. Maybe I should ask for another transfer out of here."

Amanda reached for her hands, squeezing them tight. "No, you can't leave, Sandy! You're such a good manager, and a good friend." She waited for Sandy to look up, willing her to meet her eyes. "Sandy, you mean so much to me." Amanda lifted Sandy's hands, kissing each one lightly. "I'm not horrified at all, but it explains much."

Sandy looked confused. "Explains what?"

"This," Amanda said, going with her instinct. She leaned forward, kissing Sandy tentatively, then scooting closer to intensify the kiss.

My head will explode, Sandy thought incoherently. She felt herself giving in to the kiss, pulling Amanda closer, momentarily lost in the sensation of their lips crushed together. But she forced herself to pull back, placing a finger on Amanda's lips. "No, we can't do this," she said hoarsely, "it's not right. It's not allowed."

Amanda stared at her intently. "But you liked it. I liked it."

Sandy nodded unwillingly. "Yes, and my entire being is screaming for me to carry you into bed, but we have to face that-"

Amanda interrupted her with another searing kiss, this time pulling her up and guiding her into the bedroom, shoving her on the bed. Sandy groaned, head swimming with desire, trying to grasp the last shreds of equilibrium. "You want this. I've realized I want this. I'm not attracted to men at all, and I think I fell in love with you when you opened my eyes to real art," Amanda growled, dropping kisses all over any skin she could reach.

"No," Sandy moaned, forcing herself to sit up. "I'm sorry, Amanda, I really am. Yes, you are an incredible woman, and I adore you, and even admit that I'm attracted to you, but someone has to call a halt to this. I'm really sorry, I am." She stood abruptly on wobbly feet, head swimming with unslaked desire. "I'm going home now," she announced unsteadily.

"But if things were different? If we didn't work together?" Amanda asked, grasping her hand.

Sandy nodded unwillingly. "It would be different, but I'd still want to go slow. I don't want to be an experiment. Goodnight, Amanda." She forced herself to leave, driving home in a fog of frustrated desire.

Amanda sat nursing a cup of coffee, focusing on her new assistant, Becky Brown. "Good answer, Becky," she said, "I think you can fly solo on the system now. Did you have any questions for me?"

"No, I think that covers it. This is very similar to the order system at the last place I worked before Ben was transferred." The slender woman stood up, gathering her notepad and pen. "Did you need anything from me before I get back to work?"

"I can't think of anything," Amanda said, forcing herself to smile. "Just enter the orders and I'll approve them when they come to my inbox. Thanks, Becky." She waited for Becky to leave before draining the dregs of her cup and turning her attention back to her work.

Several hours later, she allowed herself to take a break, wandering into the lounge for another cup of coffee. As she poured a fresh cup, Kent came in, silently holding out his mug. She filled it and replaced the pot, about to leave, but Kent asked, "Can we talk today? I'm taking late lunch, and was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

"Okay," Amanda said tiredly, "just come by my office when you're ready, or call me."

"How about meeting at my car at 2:00?"

"That works too, Kent. See you then." Amanda left the lounge, walking slowly back to her office. I wonder what he wants? He rarely invites me to lunch. Am I in trouble? She pushed all thoughts out of her mind, setting her mug on her desk with exaggerated care. I haven't seen Sandy since that night, she's avoiding me. I don't blame her, I'm avoiding everyone. Amanda sipped her coffee, typing her password to dismiss the screensaver. I screwed up. I was so sure that she wanted me like that. She's been with women before, and I've fallen in love with her. But she's right, it would be wrong for us to date with me reporting to her. Amanda shook her head, trying to focus on work.

Lunch time finally came, and Amanda met Kent at his car, getting in silently. "I thought we'd go to the new Chili's," Kent said blandly.

"Fine with me," Amanda said as she buckled her seatbelt. We shouldn't run into anyone from the store there, she thought, so maybe he will fire me. I don't really care. She looked out her window, not really thinking of anything while the familiar sights of Wheatley rolled past.

After they were seated and had placed their orders, Kent asked, "What's going on here, Amanda? You drop out of church, you don't speak to anyone unless you need to, and Sandy is grouchy as hell. In fact, I found out yesterday that Sandy has applied for a transfer to another store."

"What?" Amanda asked, sitting up abruptly. "A transfer? Did she say why?"

Kent shrugged. "I asked, and nearly got my head bitten off. She just said it was for the best, that she is not a good fit here." He waited for their drinks to be set down, then continued. "Amanda, I don't like to pry, but we've known each other for years. You and Sandy were getting along so well, now you two avoid each other like the plague. What happened?"

She listlessly stirred her drink with her straw, thinking furiously. If I tell Kent the truth, I could be fired. I have to come up with an excuse, one that is acceptable. She looked up at him, formulating and discarding reasons, finally saying, "It's personal, Kent. We had a disagreement, so please leave it at that."

He waited until their food had been delivered to press on. "Ordinarily, I'd drop the whole matter, but I'm very curious as to why my store manager and my inventory manager are suddenly at odds. Why Sandy is so hell-bent on getting out of here. Why you look like you lost your best friend. What kind of argument did you get into? She promoted you, you're doing great. I mean, seriously, Amanda, very few people get flying colors on their Jenkins U courses, especially with the heavy load you're carrying. So talk to me, if not as a fellow manager, then as a friend."

Amanda pushed her rice around on her plate, eyes lowered. "I can't," she said softly.

He sighed, picking up his silverware to cut his steak into pieces. He watched her pick at her chicken as he started eating rapidly, finally asking, "If you can't talk to me, who can you talk to? Can you talk to Robin or one of your other girlfriends?"

She turned bleak eyes to him. "I'm not sure I can even talk to any of them. I'm sure not going to talk to any preachers, I've offended God as well." She flagged down the waiter, asking for a to-go box. After he left, she added, "I can't talk to my parents, either. So just quit asking, Kent."

He wiped his mouth, sighing. "Okay, I'll let it drop for now. But if your job performance declines, I'll have to ask again."

"Understood," she said miserably, staring at her plate.

Amanda forced herself to not think about Sandy as she went back to work. She worked steadily for the next few hours, then noted with relief that it was time to go home, so she shut down the computer and grabbed her purse, keys, and jacket to leave. "I'm going home," she announced to Becky.

"All right, have a good night, Amanda," Becky replied, barely looking up from her computer. Amanda had to allow herself a brief smile, then slipped into the lounge to grab her leftovers before heading to her truck. Becky is even more focused that I am.

She made it to her truck without having to stop and talk to anyone, which was a relief. She turned up the radio to drown out any thoughts as she drove to her apartment, smiling as an old George Strait tune came on. But as she pulled into her parking place, her smile faded, noting that Robin's car was there, as was Noah's. Maybe they'll be busy and I can avoid them, she thought bitterly.

"Hey, Amanda, how was work?" Noah asked as she entered the apartment. "Robin will be back in a moment, she just went to the office to pick up the mail. Hey, I'm making my famous chicken and rice casserole, and you're welcome to share."

"I have chicken and rice left from lunch," Amanda said, holding up the box, "so I'll just heat it and eat it in my room. Thanks, though." She dropped her purse and keys on the entry table before heading to the kitchen.

Noah followed her, still chatting as she opened the box to dump the contents on a plate. "Well, if you change your mind, there's plenty. I learned to cook from Mom, and you know my family is big. We'll have leftovers for a week!" He leaned against the counter, brushing long black bangs out of his eyes. She shoved her plate in the microwave and set the time, wishing he would leave her alone. "Before Robin gets back, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Noah," she said, giving up, "what's on your mind?"

He straightened up, face growing serious. "You know I've been dating Robin for a while, but I've been in love with her since I can remember. Is it too soon for me to ask her to marry me?"

Amanda stopped in her tracks, the question jolting her. "Well," she said, stalling as she thought furiously, "I don't know, Noah. She's got a good job, but you're barely staying afloat."

"I know, and I'm even thinking of going back to school for my master's in music education. I know it's not as good of a career as being a dental hygienist, but music and teaching are in my blood. I'm doing ok working in the feed mill, but I really want to teach band. Mr. Stevenson will be retiring as band director at the high school in a few years, and he's told me already that he'd give me a good recommendation. I've been volunteering at band practice as my work schedule allows. I really love her, Amanda, and want to spend my life with her."

Amanda removed her plate from the microwave and took the fork that Noah handed her. "I like you, Noah, and it will be a pretty hard road, especially if you are going to school, working, and married." And even if Sandy wanted me, we could never have that, she thought sadly.

He nodded. "I know, it would be hard, and we'd have to move or you'd have to be okay with me being here with her."

Amanda was saved by the door opening. "Hey, Amanda, how was your day?" Robin bubbled as she swept into the apartment. She kissed Noah's cheek, then handed Amanda a bundle of mail. "Bills and catalogs, scourge of the mail," she added.

"Thanks," Amanda said, tucking the bundle under her arm. "See y'all later," she said, escaping to her room. She shut her door, dropped the mail, laid her plate down, shucked her jacket, and sank into her bed. Did anyone see me look at Sandy the way Noah looks at Robin? she wondered. Fleeting images of the kisses flitted through her memory with accompanying shivers of desire. I can't tell anyone I'm in love with her, she thought sadly. Sighing heavily, she finally roused herself to eat her food.

She finally managed to finish her dinner about the time she heard Noah leave. She picked up her plate and fork to take them to the dishwasher, and was stopped by Robin. "Hey, sweetie, I want to talk to you," Robin said.

Amanda stalled as she loaded her dishes and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "What about?" she managed to ask casually.

Robin grabbed her hand, leading her into the living room to the sofa. "Please sit with me," she said. Amanda sat uneasily, wondering what was going on. I paid my half of the bills this month, she thought, so that can't be it. Is it Noah? Robin sighed. "I'm not sure how to start this conversation, or these conversations. First, Noah proposed to me tonight."

"And?" Amanda prompted, scared of what was to come.

"I told him I'd consider it. I love him dearly, but I'm not sure I'm ready for marriage yet. He's automatically assuming I'll support him through school, but when I asked if he would support me going back to school, he had no good answer. I've thought about applying to dental school. I love my work, and think I'd make a good dentist. So I'm not sure marriage is in the cards at the moment. Plus, as much as I love Noah, I don't know if we're right for each other." She paused for a long moment.

"It's your choice," Amanda offered, breaking the silence.

Robin nodded. "Yeah, I know. My parents would be shocked at me not immediately accepting a marriage proposal, since they are old school, so I'm not going to say anything to them for a few days. But I wanted to also talk to you about why you're so unhappy the last month. Since you ditched Jimmy, you've been blossoming, but suddenly, poof! And then you stopped going to church, which tells me that you are desperately unhappy about something."

Amanda chewed nervously on the on the inside of her cheek, trying to decide what to tell her friend. Finally, she said, "Robin, believe me, I'm trying to figure something out, but I don't know what I can say to whom. I did something I shouldn't have, and I'm suffering for it."

"Honey, what did you do? Fall in love with a married man?" Robin asked, seizing the most obvious answer.

Amanda shook her head no, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, trying to not let her emotions get the best of her. Finally, she managed to say, "Robin, it's not a married man I'm in love with, but I can't say who it is. I just need to stop, just need to forget it."

"So who would it be?" Robin mused. "I can't see you in love with Kent, although you did say no married men. You haven't mentioned anyone from church, or from school, and the only one you talk about so often from the store is Sandy." Suddenly Robin's eyes widened as comprehension dawned. "You're in love with Sandy, aren't you? That makes sense, the way you two look at each other. Oh, honey, you fell in love with your boss! No wonder you're so unhappy."

"And she's a woman," Amanda added miserably. "I can't help it, Robin, I fell for her so gradually that I didn't realize it until it was too late. I've always been told it's wrong to have feelings for a woman, and so I've not gone to church until I can get cured of this. Help me, Robin, I don't know what to do to fall out of love with her."

Robin pulled Amanda into her arms, trying to soothe her. "Amanda, no matter what the churches say, I'm firmly convinced that there is no sin in falling for a woman. Sandy is good for you, you've blossomed under her friendship, but there is that problem of her being your boss."

Amanda sighed, letting herself relax in Robin's arms, feeling the care of her friend wash through her. "I know," she muttered, "but I can't help it. Maybe I should try to get a job somewhere else."

"Where? Without a college degree, it's going to be hard for you to work in management and get the same salary you are getting at Jenkins."

"I hadn't thought about that," Amanda admitted. "I'm in quite a pickle."

Robin started to say something else, but was interrupted by the phone. She got up to answer it, listened for a moment, then turned, bringing it to Amanda. "It's Kent, he wants to talk to you."

Amanda reached for the phone, taking it with a trembling hand. "Kent? What's happening?"

The operations manager asked urgently, "Have you seen or talked to Sandy lately? I haven't seen her since yesterday, and can't get her on the phone, through email, through text. Can you go to her house and see if she'll answer the door? She might answer for you."

"Ok, I guess I can do that," Amanda answered slowly, trying to remember the last time she'd seen the store manager. "Do I need to give her a message?"

"We have auditors coming from regional day after tomorrow, and I really need to talk to her. She's scheduled to work tonight, but I can't leave the store, too many have called in with the flu. Damn the idiots who won't take advantage of the flu shot!" He sighed heavily. "I sure hope you got it. The shot, I mean, not the flu."

"Yes, I did, I don't want to get sick," Amanda said. "Okay, I'll go over there, I know the Cowles and can probably get a key if I need to. I'll call you back, Kent." She hung up, reaching for the Wheatley phone book, flipping through the white pages, looking for the number. She found it, dialing quickly. "Trish? This is Amanda Collins. Sorry to call this late, but have you seen Sandy lately? Yes, Kent called to say she hasn't been at work, and wanted me to check on her. Can you let me in if she doesn't answer the door?" She chewed on a thumbnail, a nervous habit she had kicked in elementary school. "Okay, thanks. I'll be over shortly." Amanda hung up, turning to Robin. "I guess I should go check on Sandy."

"You should," Robin agreed, "and maybe you should pack a bag. If she's sick, she may need someone to take care of her. Be careful, and text me when you get there. It's already after ten, and I don't want to worry about you."

Amanda agreed before turning to grab an overnight duffle bag from her room, hurriedly throwing in toiletries, pajamas, slippers, and work clothes for the next day. She hugged Robin briefly before racing down the stairs to her truck, driving off into the night.

Amanda parked next to Sandy's truck in the driveway, anxiety level racketing higher as she flew up the three stairs to the front door. She banged on the front door, stopping to listen for any sounds, only hearing the creaking of the tree limbs swaying in the wind. "Come on," she urged silently, "answer the door." She waited, then finally looked around the porch for the ceramic turtle that Trish said would have a key. She located the turtle and the key, then banged on the door once more, calling, "Sandy? It's Amanda, are you in there?"

Silence.

She steeled herself, using the key to let herself in, dropping her duffle bag on the floor of the entryway before she went through the dark house. I feel like I'm in a horror movie, she thought as she made her way through the front room into the hallway. Now she could hear raspy breathing behind a door. Amanda screwed up her courage, slowly opening the door.

Moonlight streamed in through the curtains, revealing a very still form in the queen bed. Amanda listened to the shallow, raspy breathing for a moment, finally calling out, "Sandy?"

The figure slowly sat up, revealing Sandy's haggard face, squinting at her. "Amanda?"

"Are you sick?"

Sandy nodded slowly. "Yeah. Either the flu or a horrible cold, don't know which. What time is it?"

"Nearly 11:00 pm. I need to let Kent know you're here," Amanda said. "But first, I have to let Robin know I made it."

Sandy dropped back in bed. "Ok," she said tiredly, eyes shutting.

Amanda texted Robin, then stepped out of the room for a moment to call Kent. She thought for a moment, then called the 24 hour clinic, waiting for someone to pick up. "Hello, Ginger?" she said, recognizing the nurse practitioner's voice, "this is Amanda Collins, I'm at a friend's house, and she's sick. I need to see if I need to bring her in or not."

"What are her symptoms?" Ginger asked. Amanda relayed the symptoms: drainage, cough, sneezing, fatigue, slight sore throat. "No fever? Then it may be a cold, not the flu. Watch her for a few days, in the meanwhile, there are some over the counter medications she can take. But, if the throat gets significantly worse, or her temperature spikes around 102, then bring her in."

"Got it," Amanda said as she finished writing down the suggested medications. "I'll see what Sandy has here, otherwise, I'll get some in the morning. Thanks, Ginger. Bye." Amanda clicked off her phone, turning to face Sandy. "You may live after all. Do you have anything here?"

Sandy coughed into her elbow, then laid back, thinking. "Not much. Maybe some ibuprofen, a few doses of antihistamines. I think I have some bottled water, and a few cans of soup. I was planning to go grocery shopping before this hit."

Amanda looked at her watch; it was already close to midnight. The two grocery stores in town closed at ten, and the local drug store was long closed. Lucky a new Walmart had just opened, so she could go there if necessary. "Did you need anything tonight?"

"I'll live until morning."

"Oh, morning, Kent said the auditors are coming, and you were supposed to meet with them. What do I tell him?" Amanda asked.

Sandy wearily ran a hand through matted hair. "I don't know or care, Amanda. I guess tell him to handle it, I'm taking a few sick days." She coughed into her elbow again, then added, "I guess you could go and represent me."

"Isn't that Kent's job, to take over when you're not there?" Amanda asked anxiously.

"Yeah, but you know the actual finances better. Sorry I don't have another bed for you, but I guess you can sleep on the couch. Help yourself to a shower if you need it, I did laundry before I got sick."

The younger woman nodded. "Okay. Did you need anything else right now?"

"Don't think so. I'll need a shower in the morning, but let's see how I feel. If you'll go to the kitchen and get me some water from the fridge and the boxes above the breadbox, I think I'll make it."

"I can do that," Amanda said, going to the kitchen. She took a moment to call Kent back as she found the water and the medications. "Kent, it's Amanda. Sandy has a bad cold, so I'm staying the night. Yeah, she wants me to come to work tomorrow and represent her at the meeting. I'll do that, and with your permission, then come back here. She needs groceries and for someone to watch to make sure this doesn't go into her chest or become flu. I'll keep in touch." She pocketed her phone and took the gathered medications and bottled water back to Sandy's room.

By the time Amanda finished work and grocery shopping, Sandy had taken a turn for the worse. Amanda bundled the older woman into her truck and took her to the clinic, waiting with her for the first available person to see her.

Ginger McCall ushered them in the room, asking, "So what brings you here?" Sandy roused herself, looking pleadingly at Amanda, who answered with a list of symptoms. Ginger took Sandy's temperature, looked at her throat, and scribbled some notes on her chart. "Did you get the flu shot this year, Ms. Marcus?"

"No, I forgot when they came around. Figures, first year I didn't get the shot and I get the flu," Sandy said wearily.

"Lucky for you, we caught it fairly early. I'm going to prescribe an antiviral. Is Amanda taking care of you?"

"Yes," Sandy acknowledged, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. Her whole body ached.

Ginger turned to Amanda, handing her a prescription and sheet with instructions. "Get this filled, follow these directions, and be careful that you don't get sick."

"Thanks, Ginger," Amanda said, relieved to have something concrete to do. "Let's get you home, Sandy." Sandy nodded, letting Amanda help her walk to the payment window, then the truck.

Several hours later, Amanda had Sandy tucked into fresh pajamas, first dose of medicine taken, and a bowl of soup in her. "Thanks for taking care of me, Amanda," Sandy said, eyes following the younger woman around the room. "Help yourself to any of my books or movies. I think I'm going to nap now, if you don't mind."

"Sleep well, Sandy, I'll check on you in a few hours," Amanda said. She turned off the light, and went into the living area, leaving the bedroom door ajar. She indulged in her curiosity, checking the bookcase in the living room, skimming the titles. Sandy had a mix of mysteries, science fiction, how to books, and history. Amanda pulled books off at random, then found a couple of books tucked behind books on World War II. "Huh," she mused, pulling the two volumes out. She nearly dropped them when she realized that they were anthologies of lesbian erotica.

Embarrassment and curiosity warred within her; curiosity won out. She put one back, and carried the other to the armchair, flipping through and reading a few stories at random. Oh, my, women can do that together? I can't imagine doing that with Sandy on an elevator! Amanda put the book down for a moment, flushed with embarrassment and a weird feeling skittering through her body. She listened for a few seconds, determined that Sandy must still be asleep, and opened the book again.

This story was more romantic, versus the blatant descriptions of sex in the other stories. The two women met naturally, fell in love, and eventually had a wonderful date and then fell into bed together. I can see doing this with Sandy, she thought as she returned the book to the shelf, long romantic walks through a park. It wouldn't be here, we don't have any parks with a lake and trees. Amanda smiled to herself, but the smile faded quickly. It can never be, as long as we work together.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a crash and a string of curses. "Sandy?" she called out, dashing to the bedroom.

"Weaker than I thought," Sandy groaned from the floor. "Help me up."

Amanda leaned over to give the taller woman a hand, helping her rise from where she had fallen. "Where were you going?"

Gray-green eyes rolled in amusement. "To the bathroom, you keep pumping me full of liquids," Sandy said drolly.

"Oh," Amanda said, blushing. She helped Sandy to the bathroom, then stood outside, waiting for the other woman to be done. Sandy reappeared, and Amanda wrapped an arm around her, helping her navigate back to the bed. "Do you need anything else?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, my health back." Sandy sagged against the pillows. "Failing that, let me sleep for a while."

Amanda smiled, tucking Sandy back into the bed. She went to the bathroom and washed her hands thoroughly before returning to the living room, determined this time to find a much less arousing book to read.

Sandy woke up two days later to the sun streaming through her bedroom window. I finally feel human, she thought as she made her way to the bathroom, fever seems to be gone, aches gone, just tired. She peeked into the living room, seeing Amanda's body huddled under a pile of blankets on the couch.

She walked softly over to the couch, stopping before she reached it. She looks tired herself, Sandy admitted, taking care of me and going to work. I hope she doesn't get this flu. I really should check in with Kent today. Sandy fought a sudden urge to touch Amanda, to lovingly stroke her exposed cheek. Shaking her head, she made her way into the kitchen, suddenly craving coffee for the first time in days.

As the coffee maker spluttered and dripped, Sandy went back to the living room to grab her phone and laptop, then back to the kitchen just as the last drops were plopping into the pot. Within minutes, she had a mug sitting next to her laptop on the table, and a couple of slices of toast at hand. She munched and sipped as she started going through emails, noting reports to be read, and actions to be taken. All in all, it seemed to be okay.

With one last glance toward the doorway, she picked up the phone and called Kent. When he answered, she said, "Hey, this is Sandy, I'm going through my emails. How did the audit meeting go? How is everything else? Looks like we're still having high absenteeism."

"Meeting went fine, between Amanda and me we answered all of their nitpicky questions," Kent said. "This flu is hitting pretty hard, my wife said her company nearly shut down over the number of cases. One of the auditors came down with the flu right after he got back, so we don't have the final report yet. We're so shorthanded that I decided to temporarily shorten our operating hours, but so are a lot of other businesses. I think Walmart and a couple of gas stations are the only businesses other than the hospital to be open after 8:00 right now. I did wrangle permission from corporate to not let sick days count against anyone right now, since 65% of our employees are out with the flu. That's what happens when these people believe the blowhards who claim that the flu shot and other vacines are unsafe, cause autism, and so forth."

"You mean people refused the flu shot, even though we offered it for free?" she asked, stunned. "I only missed it because I was in a meeting out of town. Good thing Amanda got it."

"True. How are you feeling, boss? You sound much better."

"I'm much improved, Kent, but I'm supposed to wait until I'm symptom free for twenty-four hours before I come back. How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Tired, but I think that's lack of sleep and twelve hour days," he confessed. "No aches, no pains, no fever, not even a sniffle, just dog tired."

"Okay, I'll let you get back to it. I'll check in again later today, meanwhile, I'm about to go through my emails again and actually start answering them."

"Good plan. Talk to you later, Sandy."

Sandy disconnected, laying her phone down on the table. She had just finished her second run through of emails when Amanda shuffled into the kitchen, yawning hugely. "Hey sleepyhead," Sandy called out, "there's still coffee left and a packet of instant oatmeal. I was a pig and ate the last of the bread."

Amanda nodded, helping herself to the coffee before fixing the oatmeal. As she waited for the water to heat, she asked, "So you feeling better?"

"Actually, I am, thanks to you. How are you doing?" Sandy asked.

"Exhausted. I hope Kent isn't mad that I've been working from here for three days, I didn't think you should be left alone." Amanda glanced at the clock, then groaned. "I was supposed to be at work an hour ago."

"Don't worry, I think your store boss will understand," Sandy said with a smirk. "So, how am I as a patient?"

Amanda stirred the water in the bowl, thinking. "Well," she finally answered, "you spent most of your time asleep. So not too bad."

"Other than work, how did you amuse yourself?" Sandy asked, curious how the young woman spent her time. I'd have been bored stiff, she thought.

To her surprise, Amanda blushed and turned quickly, reaching blindly for the honey to stir into her oatmeal. "I read some, then worked some," she mumbled.

"Read what?" Sandy asked, wondering what made the younger woman blush.

"Some history," Amanda answered vaguely.

Sandy was puzzled, then suddenly remembered what was stuck behind her history books. "Just history?" she teased.

"Maybe," Amanda squeaked, managing to sit without spilling anything.

Sandy laughed softly. "My dear Amanda, did you find my lesbian anthologies?" The other woman nodded slowly as she hid her face in her hands. "Oh, my love, that must have been a shock."

Amanda looked up. "Your love?"

It was Sandy's turn to blush. "Sorry, I meant..." She sighed, closing the lid on her laptop. "We should talk, Amanda. But let's wait until later, when we've both done a day's worth of work. But to set your mind at ease, I don't mind that you read the lesbian erotica, maybe it answered some questions for you."

"Well, questions about how two women have sex. Sandy, do most lesbians do sex like the book?" Amanda asked.

Sandy drained her mug to stall for time as she figured out how to answer the question. Finally, she said, "Well, I can't answer about most, it's not like we sat around with friends saying, 'hey, how do you and your partner make love?' I'd say it depends on the couple, but Cory and I were pretty vanilla."

"Huh?" Amanda said, confused. "What do you mean by vanilla?"

I did have to open this can of worms. "As in, no kinky stuff, no handcuffs, no whips, no weird sex toys." Sandy suddenly had a vision of kissing Amanda again. Boy, she was aggressive. Sandy crossed her legs, squeezing against the sudden tingling. Damn, why does she have to be so appealing?

"I'm sorry, I'm just curious." Amanda looked at the clock again. "Mind if I take a shower? I really need to get to work. I'm glad you're feeling better, you had a few rough days, Sandy."

"Go ahead, I'll shower later." Sandy smiled. "I appreciate you taking care of me." Amanda just nodded bashfully as she cleared her dishes. Sandy watched the younger woman as she left the kitchen. I wonder what's going on in her mind? God, if we didn't work together, it would be so tempting to slip in the shower with her. But I'm sure she's not the casual affair type. Sandy shook her head. Then again, neither am I.

Sandy was reading a report when Amanda came back from her shower. Sandy looked up, asking, "So, you're ready for work? When will you be back?"

"Since you're feeling better, I thought I'd go back to my apartment tonight."

Duh, Sandy thought, stupid question. "So you're taking your gear with you?" she asked, voice more wistful than she anticipated.

Amanda nodded. "I should. I was thinking while I was in the shower, it wouldn't look right for me to be here now that you're well enough to get around."

"Oh." Sandy stood up, stretching. "You're right, Amanda, I guess I just got used to having you around. Thank you for all you've done for me."

"You're welcome, isn't that what friends are for?" They stood, looking at each other longingly, then Amanda started backing up. "I need to get going, Sandy," she said softly.

"Go on then. I'll be at work tomorrow," Sandy promised. She watched the younger woman leave the room, wishing she could at least hug her. No, if I did that, I'd probably kiss her too, and we can't go down that road.

"Bye," Amanda said, interrupting Sandy's thoughts. "I'll call tonight to see how you're doing. Oh, are you well enough to get groceries on your own? You're nearly out of food again."

Perfect excuse to have her come back over, Sandy thought, but I'll resist. "I should be, thanks for asking," she said.

Amanda stood uncertainly, then suddenly dropped her bag and grabbed Sandy, hugging her tightly. Sandy wrapped her arms around her, laying her check on top of Amanda's head, wishing time would stop for a few minutes. They stood like that for a short eternity, then Amanda shifted, kissed Sandy's cheek, and was gone.

Sandy returned to work a few days later, walking into a minefield. She had just sat down and booted up her laptop when Kent threw himself into a chair, announcing, "Sandy, we need to talk."

"What about?" she asked, puzzled.

"You know we had to cut operating hours while everyone was sick." He waited for her to nod. "Well, that idiot preacher and his mini-me have been coming over every day, insisting that we keep the shorter hours. We're almost back to full capacity, only a few people still out with the flu, but now they're protesting in front of the store. I'm surprised you didn't see them."

"I came in through receiving in the back," Sandy explained, "so no, I didn't see them. Do we need to call the police or the sheriff? Can't we get them cited for trespassing?"

"In Wheatley? Hell no, the sheriff and the police chief both go to Holy Redeemer church. They'd probably arrest us!" He rubbed his goatee glumly. "Sarah and I were talking last night about me putting in for a transfer. I'm getting tired of all this interference with how we run this store. I'm about ready to fire a bunch of people for absenteeism, but I can't because we cut them slack when so many were out sick."

"Damn." Sandy dropped her face in her hands, fatigue suddenly overwhelming her again. "And here I was feeling so much better today. Thanks a whole hell of a lot, Kent." She peeked out through long fingers. "Who all did you want to fire?"

"First one would be Ryan Wilcox in plumbing. I can't prove it, but I am sure he milked his flu for an additional couple of days, and now is refusing to work not only Sundays, but Saturdays and evenings as well, saying he has seniority as department manager. He's starting to get some of the younger guys stirred up over working until ten on Saturday nights instead of spending time with their families."

Sandy drummed her fingers on her desk, thinking. "Kent, we can do one of two things, we can either confront them, or we can start building a case against them so we can fire them or force them to quit. I'd rather not do either, given the realities of working in a small town, but they're forcing our hand." She turned to her laptop, calling up the work schedule, looking at it thoughtfully. "Looks like we can at least schedule most of the worst troublemakers at different times, to have as little overlap as possible. I know it means more inexperienced people taking lead, but it's good for them."

Kent reached for Sandy's laptop, looking at the screen, tapping a few keys. He was deep in thought for several minutes, making adjustments, then handing it back. "That's the best I can do at the moment. We'll get Carla to document everything in details, if she hasn't already."

"Sounds like a plan. Tell you what, I need some coffee," Sandy said, reaching for her mug.

"Sorry, boss, I kind of jumped on you before you'd even settled," Kent apologized. "Why don't we get some coffee and donuts and finish this in my office? I have a copule of reports we need to go over too."

An hour later, they'd finished going over the reports, and Sandy started to get up. "Hey, Sandy, I have a nosy question," Kent said.

"What?"

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. "Before you got sick, you applied for a transfer. Are you still planning to go through with it?"

"Maybe," she said cautiously.

"Why?" he asked.

"It's personal," she answered flatly.

"That's what Amanda said, too, when I asked her why you two seemed to be avoiding each other." Kent looked at Sandy steadily, willing himself to say the right thing. "Sarah and I have been hashing this out, and we think you two got crossways, and need to fix whatever went wrong. The tension between you two dropped a little when Amanda took care of you, but now she's avoiding you again, and from what I can tell, is just working, taking classes, and maybe sleeping. So what's going on?"

Sandy closed her laptop with an irritated snap. "It's none of your damn business, Kent. Don't harass Amanda."

"Robin says Amanda stopped going to church completely," Kent shot back.

"Again, not my problem, Kent." She stood abruptly, turning to leave.

"She's in love with you," Kent guessed.

Sandy paused, then turned back to face him, features tight with anger. "Don't even go there," she warned, "besides, nothing is happening."

"So it's mutual," he concluded, "and that's why you want to leave, to avoid temptation rather than dealing with it."

She laid her computer down on his desk, dropping back into the chair. "Wouldn't you do the same in my shoes? Neither of us saw this coming. So it's best that I try to take myself out of the situation before either of us does something that hurts the other one. Plus there's that little issue of company rules prohibit dating relationships between us. If we were both department managers, for example, no problem, but I'm her boss. Big problem."

Kent fiddled with a pen. "Okay, you have a point. We both want to leave for different reasons."

"You may have to," Sandy pointed out. She sat down again, opening her laptop. "Back to the original conversation, what are we doing about this newest wrinkle? Do we have enough coverage if we had to fire people?"

"Not quite, but then again, I'm sure we could hire more people. Even with the drilling operations, there's always people looking for work besides farming or working for the private prison up the road."

"True. Let's just concentrate on documenting everything in case we have to make some adjustments." Sandy grinned ruefully. "This is the part about management that I don't care for."

"Me neither." Kent dropped his pen and leaned back, stretching his arms and yawning mightily. "Damn, Sandy, I'm bushed."

"Go home, Kent. Get a good day's rest, then come back. I'll keep an eye on the place."

He nodded. "I guess I could let you do that. I have worked over 80 hours a week the past two weeks."

She stood, making shooing motions. "Then pack up and get out for the day. Sleep, take Sarah out to dinner, something."

Kent fluttered his fingers in a farewell gesture. "You're the boss, Sandy," he acknowledged before reaching for his laptop.

Sandy shook her head. "Lock it up here, I don't want you to be tempted to log in to work when you get home," she said.

He signed, started to shut down his laptop. "Read minds much?" he asked lightly.

"Don't you want to know?" she bantered back as she left his office. As she passed Amanda's office, she resisted the temptation to go in. I almost wish I could read her mind.

Amanda finished another online class, grateful for the distraction. She glanced at her beside clock, trying to decide if she was going to start another class or take a break for dinner. It was her day off, and she'd already run errands, completed three class sessions, and done a load of laundry.

"Oh, shoot, I still have a load in the dryer," she muttered. She logged out of the Jenkins U system, stretched and yawned, then stumbled out of her room to the tiny utility room. She pulled the clothes out and started to carry them back to her bedroom when Robin came in.

"Hey, Amanda, laundry?" Robin asked as she stopped to hang her coat on the rack. "Any dinner plans?"

"No, I've been busy with my classes," Amanda said, shifting her basket to a better position. "I hadn't thought about dinner yet. Did you want to eat together?"

"Sure, how about a pizza? I want to talk to you, anyway."

"Okay, sure. I'll call it in while you change. Let me just put this away first. Noah coming over?"

Robin hesitated, hand on her doorknob. "No, and that's part of what I wanted to talk about. Now shoo, and be sure to order pepperoni with extra cheese and breadsticks. Large, I want to have leftovers for breakfast."

Amanda shuddered at the idea of cold pizza for breakfast, but merely repeated, "One large thick crust, pepperoni and extra cheese, side order of breadsticks. Back in a few." She went to her room, dropping the basket on her floor while digging out her phone. She took her time, ordering the pizza and taking care of the clothes before she went back out. A quick shower might help, she thought, catching a whiff of herself.

She emerged from her room in clean sweats just as the doorbell rang. "I got it," Robin called out as she opened the door. Amanda went to the kitchen for paper plates and napkins while Robin paid for the pizza and took it to the table. "Could you grab the bottle of Dr Pepper and some glasses too?" Robin asked as Amanda laid down the plates.

"Yeah, no problem," Amanda said, returning to the kitchen. She came back with the two liter bottle and glasses with ice. "Anything else?"

"Nope, this will work," Robin said, taking a glass from her. She waited until they'd poured drinks and pulled out their first slices of pizza before asking, "What would you do if I said I was applying to dental school?"

Amanda looked up at her friend, blinking in surprise. "Um, I guess I'd say I was surprised, but shouldn't be. You've mentioned it before. Are you applying?"

"I am, actually," Robin said, taking a huge bite of pizza. She chewed slowly, finally swallowing. "I talked to Dr. Robbins, and he's going to recommend me for a scholarship. This is what I really want to do, and it will be easier if I do it now rather than later in life."

"So I guess you'd be moving," Amanda said, taking a bite of her slice.

"Yeah, to Dallas for Baylor College of Dentistry. I've already applied, and think I could start with the next class. It would be next fall when I started, but Dr. Robbins has a buddy with a dental practice in Dallas, and thinks I could get hired on there this spring. One of her hygienists is getting married and moving in March, so I'm going to apply for her job." Robin took a swig of her drink, then asked, "Have you ever thought of moving? We could get an apartment or house together, I'm sure you could transfer or find another job."

"But what about Noah?" Amanda asked.

Robin sighed. "I've already turned him down, Amanda, and he's still trying to get me to change my mind, just like Jimmy still hounds you from time to time. But he still thinks I'll drop this idea and support him through his master's so he can be a band director. I love him, but I need to follow my dream. So what about you?"

Amanda swallowed a bit, eyeing another piece as she considered the question. "Well," she finally said, reaching for another slice, "I wanted to start at the community college, but I've been too busy getting my management certification classes done through Jenkins U. You're right about Jimmy, but I've been doing my best to avoid him."

"I know you've been ducking him, you've been avoiding church, you've been hiding from everyone," Robin observed, "which is why I want to know what you want to do? What about Sandy? Are you avoiding her too?"

Amanda dropped her half-eaten slice, wiping her fingers slowly. "What about her? Robin, I'm trying to ignore these feelings, but I just want to be around her all the time. It's weird. I never felt this way about any guys. Maybe I should move with you, take myself away from temptation."

"You could," Robin agreed, "I don't know what to tell you, but you do need to resolve this with Sandy one way or the other. Now me, I've told Noah bluntly that although I love him and enjoy his company, I have to do this for me. I've realized recently that even though I love him, I can't really see myself spending my life with him, and that's hard to acknowledge. How about Sandy? Could you spend your life with her?"

"I just don't know. Robin, I don't know what to do, I am sometimes almost overwhelmed with wanting her, wanting to be with her. I have vivid dreams of being with her," she said, a slow blush crawling up her face, fragments of stories she read flitting through her mind.

Robin sipped her drink, hiding a smile. "Yeah, it's hard, isn't it? We've always been taught to save ourselves for marriage, yet our desires and longings are overwhelming." She weighed taking another slice of pizza, finally deciding not to. "You do have to make a choice, since you work with her."

"I know. I've also been ducking calls from my parents, they're wondering where I've been."

"Gosh, that's very unlike you, Amanda." Robin took another bite, pondering. She chewed and swallowed, then asked, "Have you even felt this way about other girls? Maybe it's just Sandy you're attracted. Can't say that I blame you, she's fun to be around and good looking."

Amanda picked up her half-eaten slice, studying it as she pondered the question. Finally, she said, "I never thought so, but I think I've had little crushes on friends all along, just didn't recognize it. But I never had this strong of an attraction for anyone before."

"Yeah, too bad you didn't fall for my cousin Tom. He's a good man, and you two would be cute together. Okay, truth. If you didn't have to worry about the whole work issue, would you go after Sandy?"

"To be honest? Yes."

Robin nodded, reaching for a breadstick. "So you got it pretty bad. I know your church forbids it, and mine isn't too supportive. Is that why you stopped going to church?"

Amanda sighed. "Yes. Robin, it hurts that I want Sandy so bad, yet I've always been told that God considers this a sin." She took a breadstick, biting the tip off. "Believe me, I've been tempted to let Tom know I'm interesting in going out with him, simply because it would make my life so much easier. It would be acceptable, even if he doesn't go to my church."

"You know, you could come with me, that would at least solve the problem of everyone getting on you for not going to church," Robin offered.

"True, I might take you up on that. Or, I could just see what other jobs there were, take you up on your offer to go to Dallas with you," Amanda mused.

"No matter what you do, you're my friend, and I love you," Robin said. "Enough heavy talk, let's put away the pizza and get out some hot chocolate and watch TV."

"I'd go for that," Amanda agreed.

Jimmy Wilson stood stunned as he received the news, office keys still in hand. "When did this happen?" he asked the elder.

Steve Lang turned his hat in rugged farmer's hands as he repeated, "About half an hour ago. Sister Viola called me to say that she'd had to call the ambulance to carry Pastor Carl to the hospital. Doctors ain't saying much yet, other than it looks to be like a stroke. She said he suddenly couldn't speak or move his legs, so she reckoned it was serious."

Jimmy reached for his chair, making sure he didn't miss as he sank down. "Have a seat, Brother Lang," he offered belatedly. "Is it the hospital here?"

"Far as I know. They may transfer him to Lubbock or Amarillo, Sister Viola said both cities had hospitals with stroke centers, according to the doctors. If you hurry, you might catch them before them make that decision."

Jimmy reached for his satchel and favorite Bible. "I'll go see if I can catch up with her, then," he said. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"Any time. Reckon you'll be in charge now," Steve said. "I'll tell Mrs. Hibbitts so you won't have to tarry on your way out."

Jimmy nodded, grateful that Steve would tell the church secretary. Mrs. Hibbitts would do the rest, and take care of starting up the prayer chain. He dashed out to his car, slinging his bag and Bible into the front seat, barely getting his seatbelt fastened before he roared out of the parking lot.

Please, Jesus, let him recover, Jimmy prayed as he made the quick trip to the center of town. He screeched into the hospital parking lot, barely remembering to grab his keys from the steering column before dashing into the emergency room waiting area. He looked around wildly, heart racing, before he spotted the coifed white hair of Sister Viola Matthews in a chair. "Sister Viola," he called out softly as he approached, "I'm here. What may I do for you?"

The pastor's wife looked up at the young man, fatigue dulling her normally sparkling eyes. "Sit with me, Brother James," she commanded, "the doctor will be out shortly."

"What happened?" Jimmy asked as he settled his bulk into the chair next to her.

"I was fixing breakfast while Carl was reading the paper, as we've always done," she started. "Just as I was about to pour the coffee, Carl made a noise, then looked confused. I asked him if he was all right, and he just stared at me, unable to talk. I tried to get him to stand, but he couldn't move his legs. So I called 911 immediately to bring him here." She smoothed her skirt, hands trembling, but looking at him squarely. "I suspect this is serious, James. Are you ready to take over the pulpit?"

He swallowed hard past his fear. "With God's help," he managed to answer.

"Mrs. Matthews?" They both looked up as a doctor approached. "I'm Dr. Taylor, and I'd like to talk to you about your husband."

"I'm Viola Matthews, and this is James Wilson, our associate pastor. You can speak with us both," she said firmly, steeling herself for the worst.

"He's had a massive stroke. We've done what we can here to stabilize him, but I'm recommending taking him to Lubbock for treatment and rehabilitation. They have a hospital that is a certified stroke center. The sooner we can get him there, the better."

She sighed. "Then let's do it, Dr. Taylor," she said to the young man. She turned to Jimmy. "I'll call you when he's ready to see you. Meanwhile, you go back to the church and prepare to take over. Mrs. Hibbitts will get you settled and tell you what Carl was going to preach on this Sunday. I'll talk to Steve Lang later when we know what will happen."

"Yes, ma'am," Jimmy said, face turning white. Dear God, I'm not ready for this! "I'll do my best."

She patted his hand. "We're counting on you, young man. Go on, I suspect I have some paperwork to fill out while they're getting Carl ready to go," she said.

"I'll wait for your call," Jimmy promised. He walked out of the hospital, dazed, confused, and terrified.

Word spread quickly that Pastor Matthews had a stroke, and was probably out for months. The church secretary, Louise Hibbitts, quickly arranged a donation account at the bank for the Matthews, and handed Jimmy an itinerary for an emergency board meeting. He stared at it blankly for a moment, then asked, "So what do I do now?"

"Follow the plan, Jimmy," she said patiently, "and you'll be fine. I've included a separate document with a new proposed division of responsibilities for the church, so everyone will know what they are responsible for. Since you're still in your last semester of school, you don't have time for everything that Pastor Carl did, so I'm dividing responsibilities up among board members, worship committee members, and education committee members. I have his sermon outlines for the next three months, all you'll just have to fill them in. The worship committee will plan the services, although all they really have to do is decide which hymns to sing. The choir director will take care of suggesting the hymns and pick the anthems. The board will take care of running the church. Any questions?"

He looked through the documents, trying to absorb it all. "I guess not right now."

She took pity on him. "I'll bring you some tea and sandwiches in a bit. You go back to your office, and read through the documents. I'll contact the board and arrange the meeting for tonight. Should we have a working dinner?"

He looked up, running shaking fingers through his dark wavy hair. "Um, I guess so."

"I'll call the cafe and arrange a buffet dinner. We should have plenty of water, tea, and coffee in the kitchen. I'll get the women's hospitality committee ready to serve and clean up. Will there be anything else?"

"No, Mrs. Hibbitts. Thank you for taking care of everything," Jimmy said, looking up at the kindly secretary. He waited until she left his office to start reading through the documents.

After Mrs. Hibbitts brought the promised tea and sandwiches, Jimmy started reading in earnest, figuring out what to do. His coursework had covered sermons, theology, and running a church, but it had all been hazy before now, just theory. He had delivered a few sermons, and did most of the scripture reading, but had never been responsible for the entire service. He noted that Mrs. Hibbitts had not left anything to chance, making him wonder if she had prepared this in advance since he was supposed to take over eventually. As he read through the papers, he wanted someone to discuss it with. Would Amanda listen to me? She hasn't attended in quite a while, but she's always been reasonable. Would she mind if I gave her a call?

He sighed, checking his watch. It was almost 3:00, and he had no idea if she was at work or at home. Do I even have her cell number? he wondered. He drummed his fingers for a moment, then decided to just try to call her at the store. He could always hang up if she weren't there.

"Jenkins Home Improvement, this is Amanda, how may I help you?"

Jimmy felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders at her voice. "Hi, Amanda, this is Jimmy. Before you hang up, Pastor Carl is in the hospital with a stroke."

"Yes, I heard about it in the lunchroom today. I'm sorry to hear that, Jimmy."

The young minister cleared his throat a few times, trying to rein in his thoughts. He was aware that Amanda was waiting for him to speak, so he blurted out, "I need to talk to someone, and I was wondering if I could talk to you? Mrs. Hibbitts has arranged a board meeting tonight at 6:30, so can we meet before then?"

After a brief silence, he heard her answer, "I'm not sure what I can do to help, but I can listen. I'm getting off work at 4:00, can you meet me at the coffee shop? I'd rather not meet you at church."

Gratefully, he answered, "Yes, I can meet you there. You're talking about the new one, over on Main and 6th?"

"Yes. I'll be there shortly after 4:00. Take this down," she said, rattling off her cell number. "Use it only if you're running late. See you in a little bit." She disconnected.

Jimmy breathed in and out, grateful that Amanda agreed to see him. He gathered up the papers, putting them in a folder that he stashed in his satchel. He picked up the phone and dialed Mrs. Hibbitts' extension, waiting for her to pick up. When she did, he said, "I'm going out for a while, and will be back by 6:00. Is that okay?"

"Yes, it's a good idea. I'll be there long enough to meet with the ladies to get dinner started. Go take a few minutes for yourself, Jimmy. See you later." At the click, he carefully placed the receiver in the cradle, then hurried out to meet Amanda.

Moments later, Jimmy entered the coffee shop, finding a table to stash his stuff before going up front to place his order. Just as he had carried his coffee to the table, he saw Amanda enter. She looks good, he thought, and I miss her. He tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves nervously, watching his former fiancée get her coffee and look around.

"Jimmy, what's up?" Amanda asked as she sat down with her cup.

He cleared his throat, answering, "I just need to talk, to try to wrap my head around this." Jimmy handed her the packet, asking, "What do you think? Mrs. Hibbitts put this together for me, and frankly, I don't know if I'm ready for this. What do you think?"

Amanda took the papers, taking time to glance through them before looking up and answering, "Jimmy, it looks like our church secretary has everything laid out for you. So you're afraid that you are not ready to take over?"

"Yes," he confessed.

"I see." Amanda ran a hand through short fair hair, rubbing the back of her bare neck as she thought how best to answer the question. "Jimmy, I can't tell you what to do, but I think that you need to take charge, and lead your own way. If you truly feel that you have been called to lead this church, then lead it. You'll get a lot of flack in the beginning about how 'Brother Carl did this' or 'Pastor Matthews always did that'. You are a smart man, and you know the Bible. And you know in your heart of hearts that God is calling for a change at Holy Redeemer, and now is your chance to make those changes. You need the elders and the committees to assist you, but you need to be the leader now. So get off your ass and lead."

Jimmy stared at her, shocked at her message and emphatic language. He finally sipped his cooling coffee, stalling to marshall his wildly galloping thoughts. "But what if the elders don't like what I have to say?" he asked.

"Then stand up to them and have the courage of your convictions," she repeated firmly.

A tendril of hope started rising in his chest. "Then will you marry me?" he blurted out.

She smiled sadly. "No, I still won't marry you. I love you as a friend, but I cannot marry you. We're not suited for each other. Will you understand that?"

"I'll try," he promised. He suddenly had a glimpse of a vision, of a church that drew in more converts, drew in more young families, that ministered to needs rather than laying down rules. "Thank you, Amanda."

Her face softened. "God bless you, James," she said, squeezing his hand. "I have to go now."

He rose. "May I see you to your car?" he asked.

She smiled, her face softening. "Yes, you may."

He grabbed his bag and followed her out to her truck, pausing to face her after she unlocked her door. "May I call you to ask more questions?" he asked.

"You may, although I may not have the answers you want," she said.

"That's fine, I just need someone I can bounce ideas off of." He awkwardly held out his arms, and she fell in them. They stood there for a moment, tightly hugging, just being friends. Finally, he released her and said, "God bless you, Amanda." She smiled again, jumped in her truck, and drove off.

Amanda thought about her words to James as she drove away. It had been a rough week, and she was tired, but also keyed up. Her new assistant, Becky, was doing a great job, which freed her up for higher level tasks and for finishing her Jenkins U management certification. I could take it and apply to another store, she thought, but I don't want to leave Wheatley. Okay, I don't want to leave Sandy.

She was surprised to find her truck parking in front of Sandy's house, not having made a conscious decision to drive there. I could leave, she thought, or I could just go talk to her. Decision made, she got out of her truck and walked up the steps to the house. She knocked on the door, not quite sure what she was planning to say if Sandy answered it.

"Amanda, this is a surprise," Sandy said as she opened the door. "Come on in. What brings you to my part of town?"

Amanda followed Sandy into the living room, sitting on her sofa before answering, "I'm not really sure, Sandy, I just knew I wanted to see you. I've been talking to Jimmy, the pastor is in Lubbock following a stroke, and now Jimmy has to lead the church. He's scared, but I think he'll do okay." She reached for a pillow, settling it in her lap, arms tight around it. "He asked me to marry him again."

"And what did you say?" Sandy asked.

Amanda faced Sandy. "I said no. I told him it wouldn't work, that I didn't love him, that we're not suited for each other."

Sandy relaxed a little. "I guess that settles that."

"I told him to take advantage of this opportunity, to lead the church the way God tells him, not the way the elders will try to tell him. I'm hoping that he'll stand up to them, get rid of some of these stupid rules, go back to being a church and helping people, not squashing them. I told him to meet people halfway, so maybe he'll think about making some changes."

"So, if he did, would you go back to Holy Redeemer?" Sandy asked, curious.

"No." Amanda worried the fringe on the pillow, collecting her thoughts. "Sandy, I can't go back, not unless the church accepts that I'm in love with you. But I can't be in love with you and stay at Jenkins, so I'm trapped." She tentatively reached for Sandy's hand, taking it loosely in hers. "Sandy, I've never felt about anyone the way I feel for you. I want you. I need you."

"Amanda, we've gone over this," Sandy said, squeezing her hand lightly, "company rules are against it, and I'm not sure you're ready for-"

"For what?" Amanda exploded. "Sandy, I was literally two months away from getting married, and no one blinked at that. You say it's hard to love another woman, but let me be the judge of that. I just know that I've never wanted anyone in this way before. Remember that painting of the ocean we saw?" Sandy nodded. "I want that. I want that peace, but to acknowledge that undertow of desire. I want you. If you won't give me a chance, I'll go with Robin to Dallas."

"Honey, I didn't know you were thinking of moving," Sandy said anxiously.

"Then do something about it, even if we're wrong," Amanda challenged her. "I love you, so either reciprocate or let me go. No more stringing me along."

Sandy started to protest, but stopped herself. She looked deep into Amanda's dark brown eyes, seeing the desire and raw need in them. This may be wrong, but I can't lose her, she thought as she stood up, pulling Amanda up with her. "Come with me," she said, leading them into her bedroom.

Amanda's heart started thumping hard as she followed Sandy to the bedroom, excited and scared at the same time. She closed the door behind them, recalling the stories she'd read, wondering who would take the lead. The question was answered when Sandy reached for her, lightly kissing her, then giving in to need, kissing her harder. Amanda responded eagerly, unfamiliar sensations racing through her body as she crushed the older woman to her, seeking a deeper connection.

The two women disrobed quickly, clothes flying across the room in their haste and need. It was fierce, passionate love-making, time taking on a peculiar suspended quality while they came together, learning each other's bodies and responses, first hot and fast, then slower and more measured, concentrating on drawing out sensations. They drifted off to sleep after an undetermined time, curling up together, satiated at last.

The board of elders met, discussed the changes, and closed with a long prayer for Pastor Matthews' quick recovery and Brother Wilson's leadership. As it broke up, Ryan Wilcox sidled up to Steve Lang, asking, "Brother Steve, can we talk a bit?"

"Certainly," Steve said, guiding the older man to a smaller meeting room. "What is on your mind?"

"What's on my mind is that young pup Kent Hamilton, who keeps making us work Sundays and young women work evenings. Can't we do something about this?" Ryan griped bitterly.

Steve wished he hadn't agreed to talk; he was tired of Ryan's complaining. "I understand your concern," he said, "but the fact is that the company could have replaced all of the store management with their own people from the outside, but instead, the only brought in Ms. Marcus. Kent had already been hired by Albert Collins just as he was finishing his degree. I'm blessed that I've been able to keep my farm, and not had to sell out."

"But still-"

Steve raised a hand, silencing the other man. "Wilcox, let me say this, I'm getting tired of your whining. You have a good job and only work five days a week. My farm hands and I work six to seven days a week, sun up to sun down, just doing what needs to be done. I still manage to make time for worship, so don't complain to me."

"But we've always done it this way."

Steve suppressed a sigh. "Would you listen to me? I've heard that Kent has talked to Brother Jimmy about offering weeknight services. In fact, I'm going to talk to him about it, I'd really like for my people to have more chances for worship." Steve turned on his heel, afraid he was about to blow his temper.

"When I ran my plumbing business, I was still able to take off every Sunday," Ryan whined.

Steve stopped and turned, spitting out angrily, "Yeah? How many people know that you ran your business into the ground, and had to go to work for Collins because no one would hire you to touch their pipes? Stop your whining, Wilcox, and thank the Lord for your good fortune. In fact, you should be grateful that you're still working full-time, other guys I know in other towns were cut back to part-time when their stores were bought out. So leave me alone." Steve stomped out of the room, not caring what Ryan Wilcox thought.

Something has to be done about this, Steve thought as he tried to cool off. He wasn't fond of Brother Wilson, but had managed to talk the board into backing the young man, since he was Pastor Matthews' hand picked successor. I'm tired of Ryan Wilcox's whining. I'm tired of these men using work as an excuse not to attend church and to duck out on giving their tithes. Doesn't matter how my crops go, I manage to give my full pledge every year, Steve thought as he methodically checked the doors.

He walked by Jimmy's office, noting that the young man's light was still on. He rapped lightly at the door, hearing Jimmy call, "Come in." Steve let himself in and dropped into one of the chairs. "You ready for this?" he asked abruptly.

Jimmy nodded slowly. "As ready as I can be, Brother Lang."

"Fine. I have a couple of things on my mind I'd like to discuss. First, when it's just us, let's drop the 'brother' crap. I'm Steve, you're Jimmy." He paused. "Or James. I really think you should start going by James, makes you sound more mature. Second, I just had a run in with Ryan Wilcox, still buttonholing everyone and their dog about his work schedule."

Jimmy sighed. "I know. We tried to get the managers to change, but they keep citing company policy."

Steve snorted. "Was that your idea, or Carl's?"

Surprised, Jimmy answered, "Well, that's what Pastor Matthews always thought." He ran fingers through his wavy black hair, making it stick up in all directions before he smoothed it back down. "Steve, I talked to Amanda this afternoon. She challenged me to stand up for myself, to lead this church the way God tells me to, not how it's always been done." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Mrs. Hibbitts put together the proposals I gave to the board tonight, and they were very sensible about how to divide up the responsibilities of the church and our missions."

"She did, eh? I always thought that Louise Hibbitts actually ran the church," Steve chuckled, relaxing back in his chair. He crossed one leg loosely over the other, smiling for the first time that day. "Her suggestions really will free you up to finish school while concentrating on ministry rather than running the church. So what's on your mind?"

"Steve, Amanda got me to thinking about why do we have all these strict rules for behavior, and why can't we meet people where they are. Jesus went out to the sinners, out to the ordinary people, met them halfway. He healed on the Sabbath, so why can't we let our people work on the Sabbath? Would you back me if we started offering weeknight services? We have Sunday night services, but they are at five o'clock, and many of the stores are still open then. Maybe we could meet these men and women who are working halfway. Would you back me in this?"

Steve rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I can do that. In fact, I can get my son to help out with a Saturday service, he's been wanting to help." Steve smiled again. "We'll take away all of Ryan's reasons for whining, and see if he still whines. I've always thought that Carl meddled too much with businesses. Good idea, James. What rules were you thinking of changing?"

Jimmy squared his shoulders, bracing himself. "Amanda got me to start thinking: why is it that we have rules on how women should dress, but not how men should dress? Why do we prohibit women from going to college, but not men? Why do we think that women are so tender that they have to be monitored and protected, but not men? I feel God was speaking through Amanda, calling for us to change."

"You certainly do have a lot on your mind," Steve said thoughtfully. "Maybe not immediately, but give us good Biblical reasons to change, and I'll stand behind you. I'd love to see young people come back, my daughter Jana left this church because of these very rules. She's now starting her second year of teaching biology in the high school."

The young pastor sighed heavily. "I'll see what I can do." He smiled wearily, adding, "If you don't mind, I will go home now. Will you finish locking up the church for me?"

"I was planning to. Go home, get some rest, young man," Steve said as he stood up. "I'll say a prayer for you tonight."

"Thank you, Steve," Jimmy said. He stood, slowly gathering his belongings. "I will do my best to lead this congregation according to God's word."

Steve clapped a rugged hand on Jimmy's shoulder as he followed the younger man out of the office. "You'll do fine, James, you'll do fine."

Amanda woke with a start, blinking as she looked at the familiar, yet unfamiliar, surroundings. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and what she had done. I don't know if I should be proud or ashamed, she thought as she carefully slid out of Sandy's bed. Good thing I know where she keeps the towels. She padded off quietly to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready for the day.

Sandy woke up when she heard the shower running, a slow lazy smile crossing her face as she remembered the previous night. I never dreamed that Amanda would be so aggressive! I'm sore in places I haven't been sore in for the past couple of years. A really good kind of sore, though, she mused as she stretched, trying to work out the kinks. I wonder how she is doing this morning?

"Oh, you're up," Amanda said, walking into the room with a towel wrapped around her. "I forgot that I don't have anything to wear here," she added, blushing.

Sandy grinned, then forced herself to be serious. Too bad we don't really have time for a quickie and breakfast, she thought. "Well, I'm not sure my pants would fit you, but I do have some clean Jenkins polos in the dresser, middle drawer. Those should fit you. Go toss your pants in the dryer, fluff them out a bit." She stood, dropping the sheets from her naked body, delighting in Amanda's suddenly huge eyes. "I think I have clean underwear and socks, but you may need to toss your bra in with the pants."

"Okay, thanks, Sandy," Amanda said, trying not to look at the other woman's naked body. Without another word, she grabbed her clothes and disappeared into the small laundry room. Oh my God, she's beautiful! I want her again so bad, but we need to get ready for work, Amanda thought as she tossed clothes into the dryer with shaking hands.

By the time she returned to the bedroom, Sandy was in the shower and a polo, underwear, shorts, and socks were laid out on the bed. Amanda dressed quickly, supposing the shorts were to wear until her pants were fluffed. "I'll get breakfast started," she called through the open door.

"Sounds great," Sandy called back. Amanda went into the kitchen, glad for the calming routine of fixing breakfast to sooth her jangled nerves. What would it be like to wake up like this every morning? she wondered.

Sandy came in from her shower to find breakfast on the table. "Smells good," she commented as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "I didn't expect you to fix breakfast, but I appreciate it, Amanda."

"My pleasure," Amanda beamed, ridiculously happy. She dug into her food, just enjoying the moment before reality crept back in.

The women ate in relative silence, each lost in her own thoughts. What will happen next? they each wondered. Dare we break the rules and try to stay together? Eventually, Sandy cleared her throat as she pushed her empty plate away. "Amanda, we do need to talk about last night, but not now. First, we need to be at work in another thirty minutes, and second, we need to remember not to say anything about last night."

"I know," Amanda agreed, "and I'm sure Robin will miss me, we don't always eat breakfast together, but we do several mornings a week." She finished her coffee, adding, "But I don't really want to lie to my best friend, either."

Sandy grinned ruefully. "I told you this would be complicated," she said, reaching for Amanda's hand. "We're women, we have an age gap between us, and you report to me. Three strikes right there."

"And even worse, I stopped going to church," Amanda added.

"There is that," Sandy said.

"Sandy, let's play this by ear for now," Amanda suggested, "now that I've been with you, I can't go back. No matter what, I do not regret last night. As much as I want to come back tonight, I can't, I am supposed to go to my parents' house for dinner tonight."

"You're right," Sandy said, standing up. "Okay, kiddo, let's finish getting ready for the day and go to work."

Becky greeted Amanda with a cup of coffee as she walked in to her office. "Good morning, boss," Becky said brightly, "we've got a lot of work ahead of us today. You got a reminder from regional that we need to schedule the store inventory, so I've taken the liberty of setting up a meeting later this morning with Kent and the department managers. I checked the Jenkins procedures manual, and it's recommended that the quarterly inventory be conducted overnight, or over a series of overnights, so we can get an accurate count without customers being around."

"Oh? Dad always shut down the store for a day for inventory," Amanda said as she locked her purse in her drawer, then reached for her coffee. "Tell me, Becky, have you done this before?"

"Not at Jenkins, but I've done this at a similiar store when I was in college. It's a big undertaking, and it is easier without customers. I've made copies of the section of the procedures manual regarding conducting inventory."

"Thank you," Amanda said as she reached for her copy. She started skimming the sections, belatedly realizing that Becky was still there. "Is there anything else, Becky?"

Her assistant shook her head. "No, I don't think so, not right now. If you need me, let me know." She let herself out of the office, leaving Amanda to start reading again.

Boy, there's going to be a lot of pushback on this, Amanda thought as she started making notes, we have enough trouble with the schedule as it is. Adding a couple of overnights will be even worse. I'm glad Kent has to make the actual schedule.

A few hours later, Amanda started to gather her laptop, printout, and pen when Kent entered her office. "Knock, knock," he said as he came in.

"Yes, Kent?"

"So we have inventory, what a joy," he said, dropping into a chair. "Out of curiosity, how did you do inventory when it was still Collins? We never did one after I was hired."

Amanda leaned back in her chair, relieved that he was talking about work. "Dad would shut the store down for a day, and it would be all hands on deck. Everyone had a section in their department to count, and we all had copies of what was supposed to be carried. After the sheets were completed, Mom and I would compare them to our master inventory book to tally and adjust our figures."

"No scanners, just paper and pencil?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, Kent, remember, no computers. We only had fax machines and electronic cash registers because we had to, not because we really wanted to. So why do you ask about scanners?"

"Because we finally received our shipment of handheld scanners for the store. We can use these to scan the barcodes of each product and each shelf label, and have the scanners transmit the data directly to the network. You'll have the figures batching in real time, practically. But we'll need to have Brody or one of his people come out to train if we do that."

"I see. And the problem with that is?" Amanda asked, curious.

Kent grimaced. "The only time we can get a trainer is the day of the high school homecoming. We've already had a number of people ask off to go to the parade, or to see their kids play in the band or on the team."

Amanda rubbed her eyes, wondering when the complications were going to end. "Life in a small town, Kent. Is there any chance we can do the training ourselves? Have the trainer come to train a few of us, then we train the others?"

"I hadn't thought about that, Amanda. It could work. I'll run it by Brody and see what he says." Kent jotted it on his notepad, then tapped his pen against his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, there is something else I wanted to tell you."

"Yes?"

He grinned shyly. "Sarah is pregnant, I'm going to be a dad! She's two months along, due in early April."

"Congratulations, Kent, that's wonderful news. So do you want a little boy or a little girl?" Amanda asked.

"Honestly? A little girl. I don't know why, I just want a daughter. I guess I saw how close my dad and sister Jean always were, and I want that. I've already told Sarah that when our baby is old enough, they will help me build things, like furniture." He smiled, face softening. "I know it's a little early, but we're ready for this. Oh, and there is one other thing I need to talk to you about."

"What's that?" she asked.

Kent looked around, making sure no one was in earshot. He lowered his voice and announced, "Not only is Sarah pregnant, but she's also up for a promotion. She's been a secretary at Butler Drilling, but it's because there weren't any openings in her field. Now a position opened in benefits, and she's applied for it, and will probably get it."

"That's even better. It should help with the baby expenses."

"One catch."

"What's that, Kent?"

"We'd have to move to Houston. I've already put out feelers, and think I could either transfer to a store in Houston, or get a job with another home improvement chain. Either way, it's probable we'd be moving within the next month."

Amanda stared at him, stunned by the news. "Okay, have you talked to Sandy about this?"

"Not yet," he said, "I'm torn, my family is here, but Sarah's is scattered from Houston to Oklahoma City. I've never lived outside of West Texas, and am frankly a little apprehensive. Would you go with me to tell Sandy?"

Amanda nodded. "Sure will. Tell you what, I know we really shouldn't all be out to lunch at the same time, but why don't we go to lunch and talk about it? I have some leftovers I can heat up, we can go to my apartment so we can talk privately."

"That works for me. Let me know when we're going, then," he said as he stood up. Amanda watched him leave, thinking about this latest development. What will it mean for the store?

A little while later, the three managers met at Amanda's apartment, diving into a hodgepodge of leftovers. Sandy looked up from her plate, asking, "Kent, you have my curiosity up, why call this meeting here?"

"Two things, Sandy. First, Sarah and I are expecting a baby." He paused.

"Great! And second?" Sandy prompted.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself. "Sarah has applied for a transfer to Houston."

Sandy dropped her fork, staring at him in surprise. "So you'd leave? When will she know for sure?"

"In a week," he replied. "And if she gets it, I'm applying for a transfer, or looking for a job somewhere else. Regardless, if she gets the job, I'd need some time off to move."

Sandy picked her fork up, stirring the gravy into her mashed potatoes. "Okay, that's really going to put a crimp in things. I know, it's a great opportunity for you, and I'll give you an excellent recommendation. I can't say that I blame you for moving." She took a bite, then asked, "Do you have any recommendations for replacements?"

"No," he answered, "this is all happening so fast that I hadn't thought that far ahead. I know that we're starting into the holiday season, and this is not the best time for me to take time off, but we need to think of what is best for us as a family."

"Yeah." Sandy ate another few bites in silence, then pushed away her plate. "I guess Amanda and I will have to pick up your job until we hire a replacement." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, trying to figure out how they would split his duties, then shook her head. "Or, I could just let the district manager know that we need a new assistant store manager and take whoever comes."

"That would be the easy way," Amanda pointed out. "And it might solve some of our problems of our troublemakers trying to get out of weekend or evening work. New assistant manager from out of town who doesn't know the culture here, can't give them the guilt trip that Kent has received."

"That would be a plus," Sandy admitted, "so Kent, as much as we'd hate to lose you, this could be a good thing for the store."

"Who knows, I might even try to get out of retail," Kent mused, "the hours suck completely." He took a bite of brisket, thinking as he chewed. Amanda and Sandy both look tired, he thought, watching the women, and there's something going on. Like electricity crackling between them. He puzzled on this for a moment, then dismissed it. He was too tired himself to figure out what was going on.

The three managers fell silent as each was lost in their respective thoughts. Thoughts of work, thoughts of home, thoughts of changing relationships. Finally, Amanda glanced up at the clock and announced, "We'd better be getting back, our lunch hour is almost up."

"God, you're right," Sandy said as she jumped up. "Kent, go on, we'll take care of this," she said as she started stacking plates and silverware.

"If you insist. See you back at the store." Kent let himself out of the apartment, still pondering all the changes. I'm going to be a daddy. If I don't work for Jenkins, what line of work should I pursue? Can Sarah get me on with the drilling company? he wondered.

The women quickly cleared the table and loaded the few leftovers back in the fridge. Amanda was almost painfully aware of Sandy's presence, wanting to touch her, to kiss her, but trying to keep her distance. "All ready," she announced as she turned on the dishwasher. "Ready to go back to work, Sandy?"

"Much as I would rather not, we'd better," Sandy agreed. Damn, it's hard to keep my hands to myself, she thought as she made her way to the door. She felt Amanda behind her and turned, feeling the heat and simmering desire between them. "Amanda," she said quietly, "we really need to go."

"I know," Amanda said, giving in to temptation. She kissed Sandy lightly, then snuggled in the older woman's arms, just relishing the warmth and strength of her lover's body. "I just want to stay here with you," she complained.

Sandy kissed the top of her head, tightening her arms around Amanda. "I know," she murmured, "it's so tempting to go back to bed. But we need to go back to work." She reluctantly dropped her arms, reaching for her jacket and digging out her keys. "I didn't even think about how it would look for us to ride together," she said as she opened the door.

"Nothing wrong with carpooling," Amanda offered as she turned to lock the door. She followed Sandy to the truck, thinking about Kent and Sarah's news as she climbed into the truck. As they cleared the parking lot, she asked, "Did you even want children, Sandy?"

Sandy glanced at Amanda, seeing only curiosity on her face. "Not really," she admitted as she turned onto the street, "I guess it's a good thing I'm gay, then. I can't ever remember having that maternal urge, never saw the appeal of babies. How about you?"

"Right now I can't even start to imagine having a baby," Amanda confessed, "but with Kent and Sarah expecting, it made me wonder how two women would have a baby. I worked in the nursery at church when I was younger, and while I didn't mind taking care of the babies, I never really loved it either. I guess I'm a little neutral."

"Well, this really isn't the time to discuss future plans," Sandy said as she stopped for a light, "but I will say that there are ways of having children. Artificial insemination or adoption are two methods."

Amanda made a face. "Ugh, I've seen cows artificially inseminated. Not a romantic notion. Not that I'd want to have sex with a man, Sandy, I just..." Her voice trailed off as she blushed, trying to work herself out of the hole she'd just dug.

Sandy smiled, reaching over and lightly squeezing her hand. "Sweetheart, I understand. Cory and I talked about children at one time, but neither of us felt strongly enough to go through the expense of adoption or insemination. We're almost back, so let's try to think about work, shall we?"

"Work. Yes, I suppose we should," Amanda agreed. "But thinking about you in bed is much more appealing."

Sandy flashed a grin as she pulled into the store parking lot. "I agree, Amanda, I sure do agree. Okay, on to the next battle," she said as she shut off the engine. "Let's roll."

Jimmy Wilson stared at the blank page in the typewriter, wondering what he would say in the sermon. It was already Saturday afternoon, and all he had was the title, "Changes on the Horizon." The title had come to him in a flash as he pondered the continued decline of Pastor Matthews, the calls to keep things the same, and the calls to open up additional worship opportunities. He finally took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his fingers seek the keys. "We are in a season of change," he typed, "not only from the lingering warmth of autumn to the cold of winter, but also from the leadership of our beloved pastor to yours truly. We have been called upon to follow Christ, and sometimes Christ demands that we change. I have been called upon to lead this congregation, and that is a change for the body of this church and for me personally."

What else can I say? he wondered, testing his fingers lightly on the worn typewriter keys. It sure would be nice to be able to rearrange words after I've written them, like Amanda has talked about with her computer. Suppose I was able to search the world's great works on religion without stirring? That would be awe inspiring, he thought, struggling with jealousy. "Wheatley is undergoing great changes, and the Lord is calling us to change with it. We will still obey His commands, but we are being called upon to open the church to those who have sought it, but not been able to attend during traditional worship hours. Therefore, I call upon you to reach out, to reach the unchurched, to call them to change with us. For this great change on the horizon the Lord will give us the wisdom and grace to take these changes to better serve His purpose."

Jimmy paused, reaching for his worn Bible. Suppose I used one of the newer translations, one with more supporting research? he wondered. He laid his King James version down, frustrated by the archaic language. Maybe God continues to challenge us to this day, but speaks through those who offer new translations, to make His word more accessible. He smiled, thinking of a recent conversation he had with his friend from another church. I'll see about it soon. He sat, thinking, gathering his thoughts until inspiration struck, and his fingers flew across the keys, pounding out his message of change and challenge.

He finished, pulling out the last page from the typewriter, praying that he could deliver the sermon with the force and assurance it deserved. He added a cover sheet, centering it, typing, "Changes on the Horizon, by Reverend James P. Wilson." He pulled out the final sheet, paper-clipping the pages together, and laying them in his out box. He glanced around his bare office, wondering when he would move to Pastor Matthews' more spacious office. Would he be allowed to keep the fine collection of texts arranged on the shelves there? Jimmy looked at his pitiful collection of texts from his classes, all shoved on the small bookcase. His need for order overwhelmed him as he rose to reorganize the books.

As he completed his self-assigned task, Mrs. Hibbitts knocked on his door, calling out, "Brother James?"

"Come in," he answered, seating himself at his desk. As the secretary approached his desk, he asked, "What may I do for you, Mrs. Hibbitts?"

She reached for the papers in the out basket, asking, "Is this ready for the Sunday bulletin? If so, I'll take it to the printers now so they'll be ready for stacking Saturday afternoon."

"Yes, they are," Jimmy answered. He watched as the secretary flipped through the pages, raising her eyebrows at his sermon. "Oh, I didn't mean to leave the sermon in there," he said, holding out his hand for the papers.

She handed them back, smiling. "It's about time someone stirred this church up," she said, "we've been too settled for too long. While we are talking about making changes, I have some ideas, although I'm sure the board will gasp in horror at them."

"What would you change?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Mrs. Hibbitts sat in the visitor's chair, laying the papers down. "Well, for starters, most of the other churches in this town use computers for all sorts of tasks, like making their own bulletins, keeping track of membership rolls, bookkeeping, and other routine things. My daughter keeps trying to get me to buy one for my home, and I'm about to do so. My husband uses one at his job at the cotton gin, and says it makes paperwork much easier. I'd propose that we hire some young person to set up computers and a network so we can be more efficient. Remember the reports I had to generate on how many active members versus inactive members we had?"

"Yes," he said, "as I recall, it was quite a task."

"You bet it was. I had to hand count the rolls from five years, then go back and look at the weekly attendance records for those years. Took me the better part of several days, and I finally rounded up a couple of my friends to help me count. My daughter and husband both said that if we'd kept these records on computers, it would have taken less than a few hours to do all the calculations and write and print the reports. We could track our money better, and it would make it cheaper to do our payroll taxes. Instead of paying John MacLeod to do everything, we'd be automating most of it and having him advise and correct, not do it all from scratch."

"It would certainly be a lot of change," Jimmy said thoughtfully. "Do you have an idea of how much it would cost to implement?"

Mrs. Hibbitts smiled, handing him a slim folder. "It's all in there, Brother Jimmy. My nephew owns a small company that sets up computer systems for small businesses, and he ran the numbers for me."

Jimmy flipped through the report, glancing over the proposal and the costs. "So we'd recoup this in how long?"

"Don said about a year or less. We'd still print our newsletters and bulletins at the print shop, but we'd be able to send them the files on computer, saving thousands over a year in typeset costs. That's just one area we'd save in, there's others. But, Don points out we'd need a strong firewall and virus protection system in place."

"What?" Jimmy asked, floundering with the unfamiliar terminology.

"Think of it as antibiotics for the computers, or a good security system. There is a lot to consider, but I think it would be worth it. Goes right along with your sermon," she concluded, tapping the pages for emphasis.

Jimmy rubbed his nose thoughtfully, considering the proposal. "I'll bring it up at the next board meeting," he finally said, "and I'd like to meet with your nephew to ask him questions before the meeting."

"Thank you," she said. "I've spent enough of your time, I'll get back to work. Do you want me to order lunch for you? It's getting past one, and I'm sure you're hungry."

He looked up, shaking his head. "No, I'll walk to the cafe in a bit. It will do me good to stretch my legs, and I'll get soup and salad."

"Good for you," Mrs. Hibbitts beamed. "You need to take care of yourself. See you later." Jimmy sat thinking for a while longer, then finally stood and grabbed his coat, setting out for the cafe.

"Hey, stranger," Robin called out as Amanda entered the apartment, "staying home for dinner tonight? I fixed a casserole and I have half a pie left over from a work party."

"Hey, Robin," Amanda called back as she went to her room to drop her bag. She came back out, hung her coat on the rack by the door, then entered the small kitchen. "Smells good, I'll stay for dinner. How did work go?"

"Fine." Robin pulled the dish out of the oven, placing it on the trivet on the counter. "You're just in time to set the table and get the drinks ready. How did your day go?"

"Good and bad," Amanda replied as she started setting their small table. "We'll be conducting the quarterly inventory soon, which I guess is neutral, but there will be fallout from the schedules, which is bad. Kent and Sarah are expecting a baby in early April, which is good, except that she's been offered a transfer to Houston, which is bad, since we'd lose Kent. I sure hope your day was much better."

"It was," Robin affirmed as she brought the dish over to the table. "I'll tell you about it in a minute." She went back for the rolls and salad bowl, bringing them over and setting them down before announcing, "I found a place to live in Dallas, and I can move next month, if I'd like. The dentist's office I told you about? My friend is quitting next week, so I can move there and take over her position as soon as I can leave here!"

"That's fantastic, Robin," Amanda said, "but I hate to ask, where does that leave me?"

"The apartment, from what I'm told, can be for one or two people. If you want to move with me, that's great, if not, I might be able to find a roommate there. My friend knows of several other women who are looking for places right now, so I'm sure I could line someone up. Question is, would you leave Wheatley?"

Amanda reached for the water pitcher, pouring their drinks while she thought about it. "I don't know, Robin, I enjoy sharing an apartment with you, and we've been good friends since first grade. So is Noah still going to graduate school here?"

"Yes. I haven't told him that I'm moving sooner, I think he still is hoping I'll change my mind." Robin filled her plate, then reached for Amanda's, filling it as she asked, "So where were you the other night? I woke up and didn't see your truck, and it didn't look like you'd been home."

Amanda felt a blush crawling up her face as she answered shyly, "I was at Sandy's house. I'd seen Jimmy for dinner, then wound up at her house. We talked until late, so I stayed over." She took a bite, hoping to forestall any other questions.

Robin looked at her intensely, sensing much more to the story. "Honey, it's a ten minute drive from Sandy's house. Were you drinking? Is that why you had to stay over?"

"No drinking," Amanda said, struggling to not blush more. "We talked a lot."

"Just talked? Or did you do more?" Robin prodded, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth.

Amanda laid her fork down, relenting. "Okay, we did more, Robin. I'm not quite sure how to say this, or how this started." She took a deep breath, confessing, "I slept with her, Robin. I did what I swore never to do, sleep with someone before marriage."

"You did? Wow." Robin grinned. "I'm not going to go all holy on you, I nearly slept with Noah several times, but resisted because we didn't have birth control, and I wasn't sure I wanted to marry him. My only question is did you do it out of curiosity, or because you love her?"

"I do love her, but I think I was also a little curious," Amanda admitted, "does this mean I'm gay?"

"I don't know, Amanda," Robin answered, "all I care about is whether or not you both love each other. So, does this mean you're not moving to Dallas with me?"

"I don't know, Robin. I'm confused, I want to be with Sandy all of the time, I want to make love with her again, I want to think about a life together. But I'm scared, too, and am tempted to move with you so I won't have to face the complications."

Robin ate another few bites of casserole, thinking. Poor Amanda, doesn't know which way is up. She and Sandy are cute together. I'm almost jealous. "Amanda, I'll support you no matter what, you know that, don't you? I love you, and have loved you as a friend since we were itty bitty. This isn't going to change anything between us, just so you know."

"Thank you, Robin, I love you too," Amanda said, some of the stress melting. "I just don't know what to do."

"My suggestion? Go talk to Sandy, see how she feels about this," Robin said. Amanda started to rise, and Robin added hastily, "But finish dinner first, girlfriend!" She laughed as Amanda plopped back down, blushing again. "Now, tell me about your conversation with Jimmy."

After dinner, Amanda checked the calendar on her phone, making sure that Sandy should be off work. She sat in her room, debating whether or not to call her. Would it be too forward to invite myself over? Will Trish and Tim Cowles notice me being over there so often? If I go over, should I pack a bag? Or should I invite Sandy over here? What if we did it again and Robin overheard? She finally decided just to call and see what happened from there.

"Hey, Amanda," Sandy answered after a few rings, "I'm out shopping, what did you need?"

You, Amanda thought, but answered, "I just thought I'd see what you were doing."

"Picking up a few odds and ends. Between the hours we've put in and being sick a few weeks ago, my larder is pretty bare. Are you at home?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't I swing by your apartment after I'm done here? That is, if you don't mind me coming by, or letting me put a few things in your fridge for now."

"I'd love it," Amanda said, grinning. "Just come over whenever you're done."

"Got it. See you soon," Sandy replied.

Amanda disconnected, then looked around her room. Looks clean enough, she decided. She walked out into the living room, where Robin was busy doing a jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table. "Sandy's coming over in a bit, she's out doing some grocery shopping," Amanda said.

"Great! Do I need to make myself scarce? I could go visit my parents for a few hours," Robin said, eyes twinkling.

Amanda shook her head, reaching for a puzzle piece. "No need right now, Robin." She found the correct spot, fitting it into the puzzle. "I'm not sure how this is supposed to work. I'd know what to do with Jimmy," she confessed.

Robin wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her. "Just play it by ear, my friend." She looked over the puzzle pieces, selecting one. "So has anyone given you grief over not going to church lately?"

Amanda started sorting pieces into piles as she answered, "Well, if I'd answer my phone, then yes. I've even ducked calls from my parents recently, although I suspect they know why I'm so reluctant to return to church. I get the feeling they've become more disenchanted with our church lately as well."

"Have you talked to them about Sandy?" Robin asked as she fitted another piece in place.

"Well, Sandy has been over to the house a couple of times," Amanda said, searching through the puzzle box, "but I haven't talked to them specifically about how I feel about Sandy. Robin, I don't even know how my parents feel about gays. I can't even tell them that I'm questioning everything."

Robin started to say something, but the doorbell rang just then. "I'll get it," Robin volunteered, jumping up from the couch. She went to the door, checked the peephole, then let Sandy in. "Hey, stranger, long time no see," she said as she let the older woman in. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, just chilled, I didn't check the weather and it's gotten cold since I started to the store," Sandy said as she followed Robin into the apartment. "I just left my groceries in the truck, it's already down to 38. Brrr."

Amanda greeted Sandy with an awkward hug, not sure of the protocol now. "Hi, Sandy, thanks for stopping by," she said. "I think we have some coffee or hot chocolate, would you like some?"

Before she could answer, Robin said, "Yeah, hot chocolate with peppermint. I'll get on that right away. Sandy, do you like yours made with hot water, or coffee? We have regular and unleaded coffee, if you're worried about staying up."

"Whatever you're fixing is fine with me," Sandy assured her as she followed Amanda to the couch. "Who does jigsaw puzzles?"

"Mostly Robin, but I pitch in from time to time," Amanda answered as she grabbed the quilt from the back of the couch. "It is getting cooler." She spread the quilt over their legs, wondering about just snuggling in Sandy's arms. It was a serious temptation.

"Three cups of delicious," Robin said, bearing a tray with three large mugs. She let Amanda and Sandy get their mugs, then took the tray back to the dining table. "So, you do jigsaw puzzles, Sandy?" she asked as she made Amanda move over and grabbed a corner of the quilt.

"I used to. I'd do a puzzle after every semester in college," Sandy said as she took a sip of the cocoa. "Can I help?"

"Sure." Robin took a sip of her beverage, smiling. "So, what are your intentions toward my friend here?" she asked brightly.

"Boy, you just lay it right out," Sandy said, both amused and nervous. "Robin, I'll be honest, I'm not sure what will happen with us, but I'm not a one night stand type. I've only dated a few women, and my last relationship lasted a long time. So what's this I hear of you moving?"

As Robin answered the question, Amanda looked over the puzzle, sorting more pieces. She smiled when she and Sandy reached for the same piece, giggling as their hands collided. I love both of these women so much, she thought, in such different ways. "I have offered to let Amanda move with me to Dallas," Robin concluded, "but that depends on what you two plan to do with your future. I guess it's really too soon to plan your wedding."

"Yes, it is a little soon," Sandy commented wryly. She fingered a piece, then slotted it into its space. "There is a lot to consider."

Robin nodded. "I guess it is a little soon to start making the guest list," she teased. "Okay, ladies, I'm headed for bed. I didn't sleep well last night, and I'm dead tired. Good night."

"Good night," they chorused. Sandy and Amanda looked shyly at each other as Robin shut her bedroom door, each unsure of the next step. Finally, Amanda leaned forward to kiss Sandy. The kiss rapidly escalated until Sandy drew back. "Whoa, girl," she said, a tad breathless, "did you want to talk?"

Amanda forced herself to concentrate through the almost overwhelming haze of hormones. "I guess we should," she said, "but I'd rather take you to bed," she added honestly.

Sandy chuckled, leaning into the corner of the couch, pulling Amanda into her arms. "Honey, as tempting as that sounds, we really should try to take this a little slower. So, if things had not changed between us, would you have followed Robin to Dallas?"

Amanda pulled the quilt over them, pondering the question. "You know, if this had happened before you came along, I'd have been tempted. But you came along, and life has been different. So many changes hovering on the horizon. So much that I'm just now exploring, like art, literature, the whole meaning of life. I have questions, Sandy, and I don't know the answers. Do I still believe in God? Can I love you and date you like I would a man? Is it wrong for me to love you? What happens if we decide to keep dating? I know Robin teased you about a wedding, but is that even possible for us?"

"Good questions, Amanda, and I don't have all the answers," Sandy said, rubbing Amanda's arms as she thought. "I never intended to fall for you, I just wanted to open your eyes a little. It's tough to be the outsider here, although it would have been harder if the drilling company hadn't already pumped so many new people into the population."

"True," Amanda said, enjoying the feeling of Sandy's arms securely around her. I could get used to this. "Sandy, are we dating?"

"I guess so," Sandy replied, "but we do have to be careful. You obviously trust Robin, but would you trust anyone else with knowing that we're in a relationship?"

"Kent has figured it out," Amanda ventured. "But instead of this depressing talk, can we talk about something else? What are your favorite books? Your favorite movies? Your favorite places to visit?"

"So many questions," Sandy teased, "okay, let's see. I like reading science fiction and mysteries, and love action movies and musicals. As to where to vacation? I love Colorado in the summer and Arkansas in the fall. San Antonio in the spring. Vancouver, British Columbia any time of the year. Minnesota in the summer. I haven't visited many other states, I've been too busy working." She kissed the top of Amanda's head, thinking. "I wish we could take a vacation now, I'd take you to some of my favorite places and show you around."

"Like where?"

"Oh, like the gardens in Vancouver. The museums and gardens in Denver, the mountains west of Denver, the Garden of the Gods. The Buffalo River area of northern Arkansas, great hiking there. Hiking in Minnesota. Germany was fantastic, gardens, museums, old churches, great beer gardens. Anywhere that has museums or gardens or places to hike, that's what I like. Cory and I used to visit this little place in Arkansas, a little cabin, and hike the surrounding area. It was stunning in the fall; brilliant reds, yellows, oranges, browns decorating the trees. I want to show you some of the museums I've been to, show you great art works, see what you think. That's where I'd take you."

"Too bad we're getting into the busy holiday season," Amanda said wistfully. "But what's to prevent us from taking a vacation together?"

"Getting time off, paying for hotels and gas, for one," Sandy said, "and being gone at the same time for two. It would be nice to take a short vacation, though."

"Um, when you went on vacation with Cory, did you share a room?" Amanda asked.

"Yeah, we shared a bed, honey. No one blinked an eye," Sandy answered matter-of-factly.

"Oh." Amanda turned over, looking Sandy in the eyes. "I've been on a few vacations with my family, but never with anyone else. We even stopped having youth retreats out of town when I was in high school, the adults were afraid of what we'd do at night."

"Really?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes. Sandy?"

"Yes, dear?"

"When can we spend the night together again?" Amanda asked.

Sandy kissed her briefly. "My heart says tonight, my head says wait and be careful. I'd better go with my head this time," she said reluctantly. "Besides, even though it's pretty chilly outside, I really should get home and put away my groceries."

Amanda kissed her back, then slowly rose from the couch. "I'm glad you came by, Sandy," she said as she helped the older woman up. "Let's plan a real date soon."

"Okay," Sandy agreed, "but we still have to be cautious."

"I know," Amanda grumbled. She kissed Sandy again, wishing she could simply drag the older woman into her bedroom and have her way with her. "Good night," she said when they broke the kiss.

"Bert, should we call Amanda?" Charlotte Collins asked her husband. "We haven't seen or heard from her in several weeks. Do you suppose something is wrong?"

Albert leaned back in his favorite armchair, swirling the last of his hot chocolate in his mug. "I don't know, Lottie. It's really not like her to avoid us this long. I think James was looking for her after church today."

"He was, as a matter of fact, he asked me if I'd seen Amanda lately. From what he said, he's talked to her since we have. Speaking of James, what did you think of the sermon?"

Albert chuckled, recalling the shocked and angry faces in the congregation. "I think he stirred up a hornets' nest, and I'm glad he did. Some of our members looked like they'd bitten into lemons when he talked about changes, and about refocusing our gaze of what we should do for others, not for ourselves. Not exactly what they were expecting to hear from him."

"I agree, he has stirred up something. When he said that he was going to open the church to everyone on Saturday and Sunday nights for new services, I thought the old men on the board were going to have heart attacks." She picked up a puzzle piece, looking over table. "Aha! That's where you go!" she crowed, fitting the piece in. "But getting back to my question, should we call Amanda? Her brother calls every week without fail."

"I suppose we could. It is unlike her to avoid us," Albert agreed, levering himself out of the chair. "I'll go get the phone." He went off, then came back with a cordless phone, dialing Amanda's number and punching the speaker button. "Hey, pumpkin, this is your dad," he said after Amanda answered. "How's life?"

"It's okay, Dad," she answered, "just busy."

Charlotte leaned forward. "Honey, we haven't seen you in a while, is everything okay?"

"Yes, just busy. Tomorrow we start inventory, and it's been quite a challenge to get ready for it. Oh, Kent and Sarah are moving to Houston next week."

"What?" the Collins asked simultaneously. "What happened?"

They heard a muffled comment before Amanda replied, "Two things, Sarah is pregnant, and she was offered a promotion and transfer to Houston. So they are leaving. Kent is trying to transfer to a Jenkins store in Houston. We're scrambling to get in paperwork to hire a new assistant store manager to replace him."

Albert and Charlotte looked at each other, then Albert asked, "Is there anyone you can promote?"

"No, not at the moment. I could have promoted Kendra Adams, but she's decided to go to work for Butler instead," they heard Sandy say.

"Where are you, honey? Did we catch you at work?" Charlotte asked. "Isn't that Sandy I just heard?"

"Sandy's over for dinner," Amanda answered, "we're working late, and decided to just eat at my apartment. Robin is out with friends tonight. Oh, Robin is moving soon to Dallas."

The older couple looked at each other in surprise. "I thought you said that she was moving in the spring," Albert said. "What happened?"

"Time frame got moved up, Dad. The woman she's replacing quit early, so she's moving next week."

"Should we have a farewell party for her at the house?" Charlotte offered. "You two have been best friends forever."

A muffled conversation, then "Sure, I'll ask her about it. Say, this is kind of a bad time, can we call you later?"

"Sure, honey," Charlotte answered. "Good luck with inventory."

"Hey Mom, want to help?" Amanda said, a teasing note in her voice.

Charlotte groaned. "Lord no, girl, I don't care to count little bitty brads and nails ever again. Call us back soon. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

"Well, that was interesting," Charlotte mused, "isn't 9:30 a little late for visitors?"

Albert looked at his wife, asking, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. There's just something between them, Bert. Remember how we kept stealing glances at each other, found excuses to sit close, found excuses to do homework together? If Sandy was a man, I'd swear they were dating."

"Oh, boy," Albert said, rubbing his chin, "that's all we'd need in addition to the snarky remarks about our daughter not attending church." He stood up, walking slowly to the table, leaning on a chair. "So you think they are in love?"

"I'm not sure, but it's the only thing that comes into mind. She broke up with Jimmy Wilson after she started working more closely with Sandy. Remember your Aunt Tisha?"

He smiled fondly, remembering his favorite aunt. "Yes, I remember Aunt Tisha. She was the only one who understood that I really needed that cool BB gun, and got it for my birthday when I was eight. Taught me how to shoot it too, she and Aunt Wanda always had us kids over. Aunt Tisha taught school, so she had the summers free, and Aunt Wanda was the school secretary. Back in those days even the administration was off for most of the summer. Why do you ask?"

"Because they never married, were always together, and slept in the same bedroom for fifty years. Think about it, they had a three bedroom house, so why sleep together?"

He looked at his wife, a little stunned as the pieces dropped together. "Oh, you mean you think they were together? Like lovers?" He dropped into a dining table chair, picking up puzzle pieces randomly. "You could be right, honey."

Charlotte looked over the puzzle, sifting through piles of pieces as she continued to muse out loud. "Bert, suppose they are dating. Remember that young man who left our church so abruptly last year? Ron Kendrick? I heard rumors that he was forced out because some of the elders thought he was gay. Is that going to happen to our daughter?"

"If it does, then we'll go with her," Albert declared forcefully. "I'd almost be glad of it, sometimes I can't stand the elders in our church. What do you bet that they're having cows over James's sermon?"

"Oh, goodness, Bert, I know they are having herds of cows over his sermon. Except for Steve Lang, he seemed to be all in favor of James's message." She fitted another piece in the puzzle, adding, "Imagine, though, actually caring for the sick, the lame, the poor, the sinners."

Bert snagged a piece, fitting it in next to the one Charlotte had just laid down. "I predict that if James follows through on this sermon, we'll see a small exodus of certain members. However, we might see an uptick of other people coming in, so it might work out." He stretched and yawned, asking, "Are you staying up any later? I'm bushed."

"No, I can come to bed now," Lottie said, adding one more piece before she took Bert's hand. "Lots of changes on the horizon."

"Isn't that the truth?" Albert echoed.

Brody finished explaining how to use the hand held scanners, then turned the meeting back over to Kent. The assistant manager stood up and addressed the crowd. "First, I'd like to thank you all for coming when the homecoming parade is about to commence. It was the only time we could schedule this. Second, we've passed out the schedules for the inventory. I know that it will be difficult to work overnight, so Sandy and I got permission to close the store to the public early so we won't have to be here quite so late. Third, I have an announcement."

He looked around the room, wondering if his next job would be this frustrating. "Actually, two announcements. Sarah and I are expecting a baby in April, and we're moving in two weeks. Sarah got a promotion and transfer to Houston, so you'll be getting a new assistant store manager."

The gathered employees erupted in a flurry of comments until Amanda suddenly let loose a piercing whistle, much like her father used to do. "Let the man talk," she said when silence descended.

"Thanks, Amanda. Per Jenkins policy, we can either appoint a replacement from within the store, or ask for a transfer from another store. We decided to ask to have a replacement appointed by the district manager. We should find out soon who the replacement will be. Okay, folks, that's it. Let's finish this up so we can go home."

As the meeting broke up, Amanda caught up with Kent. "Will the new guy need a place to live?"

"I think so," Kent said, "Why do you ask?"

"With Robin moving to Dallas, I won't be able to afford the apartment by myself. I was thinking if the new guy wanted it, I could move back with my folks, or find somewhere else to live."

Like with Sandy? he thought. "I'll pass that along, Amanda." He watched Amanda walk off, thinking that he should have proposed that she take his position. But she hasn't really had any management experience, but she knows this store better than anyone. If only she had more experience.

As Amanda walked off, Ryan Wilcox stomped up to Kent, bellowing, "Why did you schedule me for this overnight inventory? Have one of the younger guys come in, not me. I have seniority, and shouldn't have to get my butt up at some ungodly time of the morning."

Lord, give me strength, Kent thought before he replied. "Ryan, we have the shift split up so everyone only has to do four additional hours. You're getting time and a half, so why are you complaining?"

Ryan harrumphed. "But you have me scheduled from 2:00 am to 3:00 pm."

"Yes, four hours for inventory, plus your usual eight hour shift and one hour lunch. It was either that, or make you come in for four hours, then stay off for four hours, then come back for eight hours. Look, Ryan, I really don't have time for this discussion, and the floor isn't the best place for it."

"Hamilton, I'll do it, but under protest. I'll go over your head and lodge a protest with the district manager," Ryan snarled.

Kent had to smother a grin. You do that, and you'll find yourself out of a job pretty damn quick, he thought. "Do what you feel you have to, Ryan," he said blandly. "Meanwhile, we both need to get back to work." He turned, walking away, feeling imaginary daggers hitting his back.

As he walked along, Rob from flooring stopped him. "Kent, got a question for you."

"Yes, Rob?" he asked, wondering what crisis had cropped up in flooring.

Rob looked around, lowering his voice. "Is there any way I can pull a double shift? I need to replace my hot water heater, and the extra money sure would come in handy."

Kent rubbed his chin as he thought. "I'd have to go back to my office and check the schedule, see what I can arrange. We're really only assigning an extra two to four hours to everyone's shifts, but I'll see what I can do."

"I'd appreciate it, sir," Rob said, smiling. "Just let me know."

"Will do, Rob. I'll see if I can at least get you four hours between shifts so you can rest some. Don't forget that if you special order the new hot water heater here, you get an extra discount on top of your employee discount."

"Hey, that's right," Rob said, face brightening. "We never had these kind of discounts when it was Collins, just a five percent employee discount. You know, I wasn't too sure when Mr. Collins sold the store, but I think I like it being Jenkins better."

"Oh, really?"

Rob nodded enthusiastically. "It took a while, but having these computers where you can just pop in an order and immediately tell someone when their materials will be in, or how much they need, is fantastic. Miss Marcus is pretty good too, I've learned a lot by watching her working with customers. She sure knows her stuff, and gets bigger orders that I would be able to on my own. Anyway, let me know if I can work more hours, Kent."

"Will do, Rob, and thanks for your good attitude." Rob grinned and walked off, leaving Kent to slowly make his way back to his office upstairs. He was still thinking about schedules and his deadline to find a job in Houston, or have to resign, when he nearly ran into Amanda's assistant, Becky. "Pardon me, Becky," he said, stepping aside.

"Hey, Kent, just the man I wanted to see," Becky said. "Got a minute?"

"Sure," he said, puzzled. He followed the assistant to the break room, wondering why she needed to talk to him. "What do you need?" he asked as they sat at one of the tables.

"Can you confirm a rumor?"

"Depends on the rumor," he said, puzzled.

Becky leaned forward, asking in a low voice, "The rumor that we're getting all new managers. You said you are leaving, and there are rumors that Sandy might leave. Amanda has been preoccupied the last few days, and I wasn't sure where else to turn. I don't know Carla from HR well enough to scope this out."

"Why do you ask?" Kent asked, puzzled.

"Don't worry, I'm not trying to spread news or gossip," Becky assured him, "but if I'm going to be working for a new crop of managers, I'd really like a heads up."

"Well," Kent said slowly, "I am leaving. As far as Sandy? No idea."

Becky looked thoughtful, playing with a packet of sugar left on the table. "I have a sneaking suspicion that wherever Sandy goes, my boss will be close behind."

"I can't comment on that," Kent said, leaning back. "Anyway, shouldn't we be getting back to work?"

"If you insist," Becky said, smiling. He suspects what I do, she thought as she watched Kent leave the break room. Not that I care one way or the other, unless Amanda does leave. I do like her as a boss, she's fair and a very good teacher. Becky sat thinking for a moment longer, then forced herself to get up and go back to work.

Jimmy Wilson felt like he was on fire with a mission given to him by the Holy Spirit. His new found confidence was buoyed by the sense of mission and the support of younger members of the congregation, but the elders were trying to stymie him. He was puzzled, having seen Pastor Matthews basically tell the board of elders how the church was to be run, not to have them tell him.

Mrs. Hibbitts entered his office after knocking softly and hearing his greeting. "Good morning, James," she chirped, handing over a stack of mail and a cup of coffee. "And how are you this bright blessed day?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Hibbitts," he replied, looking up from his typewriter. "I'm a little puzzled, frankly."

She sat in one of the chairs, looking at him curiously. "What is puzzling you, James?"

"Well, the board of elders, frankly, is trying to keep me from carrying out the message I feel that the Holy Spirit is asking me to preach, the mission I believe I'm being asked to carry out. They never fought Pastor Matthews this way."

Before answering, she got up and shut the door, then came back and said seriously, "I'll be very honest with you, James, and let's keep this between us for the moment." She took a deep breath. "You remember how Jesus was always in trouble for stirring up a hornet's nest, for daring to smash the status quo? How he insisted on following the spirit of God's law, not the legalistic letter of the law?"

"Yes. The elders and priests were very upset with him," Jimmy confirmed.

"That is what is happening here. You are calling them out, challenging them to follow the spirit of Jesus's message, not just the letter. You are asking our church to actually open up and reach out to the unchurched, to help the poor and hungry, to meet people where they are, not where we think they should be. So don't back down, and God will reward you. Besides, I've been doing some research, and found that our board is long overdue for a change. Each elder is supposed to serve for 3-5 years, and some of these gentlemen have served for over a decade. According to the bylaws of this congregation, set out by Brother Carl himself, we should have elected new elders 4-6 years ago."

Jimmy stared at her, asking, "So what are you suggesting? That I call an election to replace the board?"

"No, leave that up to me. I have my network of women who work behind the scenes, and we can get this accomplished. Believe me, some of these women are tired of seeing their sons and daughters go to other churches, or their grandchildren leave altogether because they think there is no place for them here. It will be a challenge, and frankly, we have a number of members who would rather spend money on missions overseas than missions in their own back yard."

Jimmy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You are right. Let me ask you this, should I wait until we seat a new board, or new members, to give your nephew's proposal on computers?"

"Probably. Have you given any more thought to moving into Pastor Matthews' office?"

He shook his head. "No, I guess I keep expecting him to come back."

The church secretary shook her finger at him. "You need to make that move. Sister Viola called me this morning and said that it looks like he will never recover." Mrs. Hibbitts sighed heavily. "In fact, he's going downhill pretty quickly. You should go visit him today, if possible."

"I will, thank you," Jimmy said. "Anything else?"

She hesitated, then plunged ahead. "You need to find a wife, James. Someone who is strong, and will be a real partner in God's work, able to withstand the changes brewing in this church."

His heart sank, wishing Amanda would accept his proposal. But she's turned me down several times, he thought wistfully. "Do you have any candidates?" he asked.

"I'll come up with several names," she answered, "although I do wish Amanda Collins had said yes, but I also think that she's not meant for you. Speaking of Amanda, have you found out why she's not coming to church any longer?"

"No," he said shortly, not wishing to open that can of worms. "If that's all, I need to finish this up, then I guess head out to visit Pastor Matthews."

"That's all," she said, standing. "Good luck," she added. Jimmy watched her leave, then turned back to his task at hand.

A while later, he tossed down his pen in frustration. I really need to go to Lubbock to visit the pastor. I can combine it with visits to a few other members in the same hospital, he thought moodily. Or, I could be a coward and hide in my little office. I need to decide whether or not to just move into the pastor's office. I should call Sister Viola, see how she is holding up. He rubbed his forefinger over his thumb repeatedly as he tried to decide what to do first.

Finally, Jimmy picked up the phone and dialed the Matthews' residence, hoping to catch Sister Viola at home. It rang several times before she finally answered. "Good morning, sister, this is Brother Wilson," he said, "am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all, Brother James," she said, "I was just about to call you, as a matter of fact. I need to go visit Carl, and was wondering if you would like to go along. I figure you have other church members you need to visit, and I need to talk to the doctors for a bit."

"That would be good, Sister Viola," he said, relieved. "When would you like to leave? Shall I come pick you up?"

"We can take my car, and you can come here. Just give me another ten minutes before you head over here, and be sure Mrs. Hibbitts knows where you are. We can eat lunch in Lubbock near the hospital, I know of several good places now."

"That sound like a good plan. I'll see you soon." He hung up, wondering what he should take with him. His mind went blank for a moment, then he forced himself to think. He grabbed a notepad, pen, and Bible, stuffing them in his satchel to take with him. He grabbed his coat and shut his door, walking down the hall to Mrs. Hibbitts' office.

"I'm heading to Lubbock for the day," he announced as she looked up at him. "Visiting several of our members, including Pastor Matthews."

"All right, tell him hi for me," the secretary said. "Will you be back today, or should I count on seeing you in the morning? You don't have anything on your calendar for tonight."

"I don't know how long I'll be gone, so I'll just see you in the morning," he decided. "I'll give Brother Carl your regards." Jimmy awkwardly slung his bag over his shoulder, digging in his pocket for his keys. "I guess I should really see about getting a cell phone in case anyone needs to reach me."

"You should," she agreed. "See you tomorrow."

He went out to his car, deep in thought, driving to the pastor's house on autopilot. So much needs to be done, he thought, and I'm not sure how I'm going to get everything done. Maybe computers are not evil. I just don't know. He pulled into the Matthews' driveway, turning the car off while he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Lord, please be with me, he prayed as he exited the car.

Amanda stopped and stretched her back, glad to be through with another row. At least inventory is faster with computers and scanners than with the lists we had to write out each item, she thought as she tried to roll the kinks out of her shoulders, and it appears that most of the store have figured out how to use the barcode scanners correctly. I'll be interested to see the reports this time. She stood for a moment, juggling the barcode reader from hand to hand, wondering if she could take a break.

Just as she was about to declare a break for herself, Kent's voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "This is Kent Hamilton speaking. You may stop what you are doing for lunch, so come on back to the loading dock for Sammy's Barbeque. That is all."

She grinned as she holstered her reader and then laid the harness on the floor, hearing others buzzing with excitement. John Burbank was the third generation for Barbecue by Sammy, started by his grandfather, Sammy Burbank. All they did was takeout and catering, highly sought after for their range of meats and excellent side dishes.

As Amanda approached the dock, Kent caught up with her, saying in a low voice, "Surprise! I managed to swing a deal for tonight, and I'm so proud of myself."

"I'm glad," Amanda said, trying not to drool at the wonderful scents wafting toward her. "Dad would have never sprung for Sammy's, usually just hot dogs and burgers that he and Mom grilled out back. I hope you got plenty."

"I did, and I'm hoping there will be enough for leftovers," Kent replied as they took their place in line. "So how is your part going?"

"Faster than I expected, although I forgot how high some of the top stock areas are. So I traded with one of the guys to do top stock on my departments, while I do all the bottom and middle. I'd rather sit on the floor than running up and down the ladders."

"Yeah, I'd forgotten about that. If this was a really big Jenkins, we'd have all sorts of lifts to go up and down." Kent shook his head. "I don't miss going up and down ladders, I'll tell you that. So how's the barcode scanners doing?"

"Fine, as far as I can tell. I spot checked a few entries on my tablet, and it seemed accurate. It still seems like magic, just reading a barcode and having the numbers float into the system."

Kent chuckled at her description. "It does seem like magic sometimes. Oh, good, we're next in line."

They spent the next ten minutes or so piling up their plates, then finding a table to sit at. Sandy had authorized store use of heaters so they could sit at the tables in the back lot, making the chilly night air pleasant. Kent wound his way through the crowd, surprised to find Sandy and Becky sitting at a table with two spaces still left. "Mind if we join you, boss?" he asked.

"Not at all, sit, sit, eat!" Sandy exclaimed, shifting a little so Amanda could sit next to her. "Great idea, Kent, this is terrific barbecue, and the creamed corn? Heavenly."

Becky chimed in, "And the fried okra is just crispy enough, just like I like it."

Amanda nodded in agreement as she dug into her food, concentrating on eating for several minutes as conversation swirled around her. She slowed down halfway through her plate, asking, "So Kent, heard anything about jobs in Houston?"

"As a matter of fact, I have a telephone interview tomorrow with a distribution company," he said, "so I'm hopeful. Hours and pay would be much better than here."

"That's good," Sandy said, "it does help to have a job lined up while you're still working. If you need a good reference, let me know."

"Thanks, I may take you up on that," Kent said as he buttered his roll. "I'll miss Wheatley, but I won't. You've worked in bigger cities, Sandy, you know what I mean."

"Yeah," she agreed, "I know that Lubbock and Amarillo are only an hour away, but anything else like Dallas, Fort Worth, or Houston are pretty long drives." I'd love to take Amanda to some of the theaters in big cities, where they have Broadway touring companies, she thought wistfully. I wonder what company it is? I need to find out, maybe there's jobs out there for me and Amanda.

Amanda glanced at Sandy, suddenly wishing they could be alone together. Is this what being in love is? Wanting to block out the world, wanting to spend all of your time with someone, wishing you could touch them all the time? She mentally checked her distance, deciding that she wasn't too close to Sandy. I hate this feeling that I'm always having to make sure I'm not too close, not looking at her too much. "So have you and Sarah started looking for a place in Houston?" she asked.

"Actually, her company is going to pay for the move, and help us find a new place to live. They'll take care of paying for breaking our current lease, so we won't have to worry about that."

"That's awesome," Amanda said. What would happen if I moved? Would Sandy want to move? Would it be okay for me to move in with her, or her in with me? "When are you moving?

"Sarah moves a week from tomorrow, and I'll move in ten days. We've been packing and deciding what to sell or give away, maybe just start fresh. We'll move our big furniture and our clothes and stuff, but rent appliances until we decide if we're going to stay in Houston for the long haul." Kent sighed, patting his belly. "I'll miss Sammy's."

"It is good," Sandy affirmed. "Changing topics, I haven't heard anything yet about when your replacement is coming? I haven't heard a peep."

"I heard earlier today that my replacement is Dwayne Griffin from the Wichita Falls store. He arrives in a couple of days so I can show him the ropes," Kent said. Before he could say anything else, his phone rang. "Excuse me," he said, jumping up from the table.

Amanda glanced over at Becky, who was eyeing her with a smirk. What is Becky thinking? she wondered uneasily. Does she suspect anything?

Kent returned to the table just as Sandy stood up. "Time to get back to it," she announced to groans. She just grinned, then asked, "Amanda, can you get their attention?" Amanda let loose her piercing whistle; the noise level dropped abruptly. Sandy climbed up on the bench, rising her voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, first, let's hear it for Sammy's Barbecue!" A general cheer rose from the crowd. As it died down, Sandy added, "Second, thank you for your excellent work, inventory is going faster than it does at most stores our size. We should be done in another hour or so. Okay, third, I hate to say this, but break is over, so let's be back in our places as soon as we can. Carry on!"

The crowd milled about, clearing trash, getting ready to go back to work. Kent caught Sandy as she was about to go back into the store, asking, "Can I talk to you a moment?"

"Sure, what's up?" she asked, turning to face him.

"That was Sarah. Her timetable has been moved up, and she needs to leave for Houston in two days, not a week from tomorrow. Mind if I take a couple of days to go with her?"

Sandy blew out a frustrated breath. "Right when your replacement is supposed to arrive?" She raked her fingers through her short light brown hair, thinking. "I guess between Amanda and me, we can get him up to speed. So why did you find out and not me?"

"Because I had gone into your office to give you a report and the phone rang. Since you weren't there, and the display showed the district office, I decided to grab it. Sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Sandy. The district manager didn't say much, just that Dwayne would be here in a few days and he'd call back tomorrow with details."

"Fine. I'd have been happier if you'd have told me this earlier, so I could have called back and gotten the details about Mr. Griffin. But, all that aside, go ahead with Sarah. Do you have the schedules for the next few weeks?"

"Yeah, check the scheduling program. I've added you and Amanda as admins for scheduling, so either one of you can make any adjustments."

"Good thinking. Okay, let's get back to inventory, Kent, and we'll talk later. Are you planning to come back when Sarah gets there?"

"Yes. Not for long, but I'll be here at least a week or so. Talk to you later, Sandy."

Sandy watched him walk off, wondering how much more complicated life would get. New assistant manager coming, still struggling with balky employees, head over heels in love with Amanda, what else can go wrong?

Jimmy Wilson had been shaken to the core when he saw Carl Matthews in the hospital. The larger than life pastor looked like he was shrinking, a husk of his former self. Viola had gone off to confer with the doctors while Jimmy sat in the room, watching his pastor and mentor staring off into the distance, never once showing any sign that he was aware of Jimmy's presence.

"He's been like that since the stroke," Viola had confided to him, "he initially would eat a few bites, but now he's refusing food. We never discussed what to do if he was in this condition, but I can't face having him like this. I'm going to sign the DNR orders and refuse a feeding tube. The doctors say he's also going into kidney failure."

"I'm so sorry, Sister Viola," Jimmy had said, "what do you need me to do?"

"Pray for him," she said simply, "and get ready to preach his funeral. The end should be soon, God willing."

"I can do that," Jimmy promised. Now he stood, watching as Viola held her husband's unresponsive hand, wondering if the end were near. He remembered Brother Carl telling him several years ago that you could tell when a soul was about to depart this mortal coil, but so far, Jimmy had not seen one depart. He glanced up at the monitor, wishing he knew what the squiggly lines meant. "Is there anything you need?" he asked Viola softly.

She looked up at him with sad eyes, heaving a great sigh. "No, but I thank you, James," she said. "You should go get a cup of coffee or something. Matter of fact, that sounds good, could you get me a cup? I think I saw a coffee shop in the lobby."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, rising quietly. He took one last look Carl Matthews, wondering how much longer the man could last. Jimmy walked quietly out of the room, going down the hallway until he reached the coffee shop in the lobby.

"Careful, you might spill those," a voice behind him said as he tried to put the lids on both cups. Jimmy turned around, seeing a bright eyed woman near his age in what he guessed was a nurse's uniform. "Here, let me help you with that."

"Thank you, miss," he said gratefully. Their fingers touched as she took one of the cups from him, and he felt a shock race through his arms. He managed to get the lid on the other cup as he looked into the woman's deep, laughing brown eyes, set in a dusky tan face, surrounded by dark brown, almost black hair. "I appreciate the help."

"Glad I could help. You visiting someone here?" she asked.

"Um, yes, Carl Matthews, he's the head pastor of my church, and I'm the associate pastor. Oh, I'm James Wilson." He nodded, unable to figure out how to set a cup down to shake her hand.

"Donna Ramon, glad to meet you. I'm an emergency nurse here. Are you in a great hurry? We could sit for a few minutes, my shift doesn't start for another bit," she said, eyes twinkling merrily.

"I guess so," Jimmy said, following her to an empty table. She is beautiful, he thought in awe, and she's choosing to talk to me.

Donna sipped her coffee, watching the awkward young man. Something about him, I don't know what, I'm just drawn to him, she thought. "I was here when Mr. Matthews was admitted," she said, hoping to jumpstart the conversation.

"You were? Oh. I mean, that's good to know." Jimmy stopped, trying to figure out what else to say. "So how is he, really?" he blurted out.

She reached over, taking his hand in a comforting gesture. "I can't discuss his case, but I can tell you that he's getting excellent care."

"Good," Jimmy said, still holding her hand. "So will you come by to check on him during your shift?" he asked, hoping to see her again.

"I should be able to," she said, "but now I need to go clock in. It was nice meeting you, James."

"Likewise, Donna," he said. He picked up the cups, happily walking back to the room. She seems nice, he thought as he entered the room. I sure hope to see more of her. "Here's your coffee, Sister Matthews," he said, carefully handing over the cup.

"Thank you, James," she said wearily, taking the cup. She drained half of it in one long swallow, then set it on the nightstand. "That is just what I needed."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts about their future if Pastor Matthews died soon. Jimmy worried about leadership, Viola worried about how she would live, and if she could remember where Carl kept their financial papers.

Their reverie was interrupted by a light knock at the door. "Time to check Mr. Matthew's vitals," a voice announced. "Hi, I'm Donna Ramon, I'm filling in for the nurse on duty."

"Miss Ramon, this is Mrs. Carl Matthews, Viola Matthews, that is," Jimmy said, managing to restrain a stammer."

Donna smiled, taking Viola's hands in hers and chafing them gently. "I'll get your husband's vitals in a moment. How are you holding up, Mrs. Matthews?" she asked tenderly.

"About as well as can be expected," she answered, "thank you for asking, Miss Ramon."

Donna nodded, releasing Viola's hands as she went to the sink to wash. "Any change since the last visit?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she scrubbed her hands.

The minister's wife looked at her husband, then back at the nurse, who was drying her hands. "He's not any better, I can tell you that. He hasn't eaten in a few days, and today he hasn't opened his eyes yet."

"I see." The nurse snapped on gloves as she crossed the room to examine the minister. She quickly noted his vital signs, checked his responses, then started to say something else when the minister suddenly started gasping loudly. Donna whirled back around, glancing at the monitor and hitting the call button. "Code blue," she snapped when it was answered.

Within a minute, equipment and people crowded the room, working furiously on the dying man. As they tried to revive him, Pastor Matthews suddenly called out, "I see my mama and papa! Wait for me!" He half raised, then collapsed on the bed.

Jimmy stood back, looking on in horror as the medical professionals did their job. He was stunned as one of the doctors pronounced Pastor Matthews dead, barely able to gather his wits enough to stand by Mrs. Matthews, wrapping an arm around her. Donna turned to him and said gently, "Would you like to say a few words before we remove him, Reverend Wilson?"

"Um." Jimmy finally moved forward, arm still wrapped around the widow. I've never seen a freshly dead body before, he thought wildly as he forced himself to look on Brother Carl's face. Viola leaned forward, kissing her husband on the forehead, then stepping back into Jimmy's arms. "Please bow your heads," he finally managed. "Father, we commend this great spirit into your loving arms. Be with us as we enter this time of sorrow, even as your servant, Brother Carl Peter Matthews, enters your kingdom of love and joy. Bless these men and women who struggled to keep our beloved pastor alive, and be with us in the coming dark days. In Christ's holy name, Amen."

"Amen," he heard Donna echo. He stood back as the next wave of people entered the room, speaking in hushed tones with the grieving widow. He had the vague notion that she was having to sign paperwork, to release the body. Time seemed to slip by in a peculiar fashion, fast, then slow, as the room finally emptied out.

"I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Matthews," he heard Donna say as the last person exited. "May God be with you."

"And with you, my dear," Viola echoed, hugging the young nurse. "Thank you." She wiped a stray tear, then straightened up. "James, we have some calls to make," she announced.

"We do? We do," he agreed, still in shock. "Where?"

Donna took Viola by the arm, motioning for Jimmy to follow. "I'll take you to an unused office, you can make your calls from here."

"Bless you, dear," Viola said.

"Yes, thank you," Jimmy echoed, wishing fleetingly that he had the courage to take Donna's arm. Instead, he followed the nurse and the widow, already thinking of the calls they needed to make. Time to buck up, he told himself sternly as they entered the empty office.

Sandy walked into Amanda's office just as the younger woman dropped the phone in its cradle. "Amanda, you are pale," she exclaimed, "are you ill?"

"No, I'm not ill, that was Jimmy calling from the hospital," she said shakily, "Pastor Matthews just died. The funeral is in two days."

Sandy rushed over as Amanda rose, taking her in her arms, feeling Amanda shaking from shock and grief. "I got you, honey," she crooned into the younger woman's ear, "you're safe here. I am sorry for your loss."

"I never thought this would happen, Pastor Matthews was always there," Amanda said brokenly, "and I never had to chance to talk to him. I never told him why I couldn't go to church any longer."

"It's okay, Amanda, God knows, and that's good enough. Shh, it's going to be okay, we'll get through this together," Sandy said, rubbing Amanda's back in comforting circles. "I've got you."

They stood like that for a few minutes, then Amanda finally pulled away, taking deep breaths. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry, it's just a shock. First his stroke, now his death. And poor James, having to take over the church at this time!"

Sandy felt a little tendril of jealously at Amanda's concern for her former fiancé, but managed to squash it down. "I'm sure it is hard on him," she agreed. "So when is the funeral?"

"In two days, at ten o'clock in the morning," she answered.

Sandy nodded. "I'm sure a lot of people will want to take the day off. Let's go ahead and make a list, so we'll be prepared. We'll put together a proposed schedule, then call a store meeting in an hour. Can you help me do that?"

"Yes, I can," Amanda said, sitting back down at her desk. Just as she reached for pen and paper, Sandy's cell phone rang. "Cassandra Marcus," she answered briskly. "Really? He's a day early! Okay, I'll come get him." She hung up, turning to Amanda. "Our new assistant store manager has arrived, Amanda. I'll go get him, then bring him around in a bit. You finish getting that list ready, okay?"

"Will do," she promised.

Sandy hustled down the stairs to the contractor's desk, where a small crowd was gathered around a tall black man. She pushed her way through as the contractor supervisor called out, "Sandy, this here's Dwayne Griffin, said he was supposed to see you."

Sandy held out her hand automatically as the tall man shook it. "I'm Cassandra Marcus, store manager, but everyone calls me Sandy. So you're Kent's replacement, welcome to Wheatley."

"Thank you," Dwayne said in a booming voice, "I'm glad to meet you. Don Heath in the district office said you're a fine manager to work with."

"I try to be, Dwayne. If you would please follow me, we'll get you set up and started," Sandy said, motioning for him to follow her upstairs. Not that I'm prejudiced, but what was district thinking sending an African-American to such a conservative lily white town? she thought as she climbed up the stairs to the office suite. She led him to Kent's office and said, "Well, this will be your office, Dwayne. I'm next door, and our inventory manager, Amanda Collins, is just down the hall. We also have our human resources manager here, as well as our break room, records, room, and vaults. I'll contact IT to make sure your login has followed at that they remembered to reprogram the phone."

Dwayne flashed an amused smile at her as he settled into Kent's chair. "No need, Sandy, I've already talked to IT and all should be go. Now, you're probably wondering what blithering idiot sent me here, right?"

"The thought did cross my mind," she admitted.

"The thought crossed mine as well, Sandy, but here I am. The regional office decided for some reason that we needed more diversity in store management, and since Kent's job came open, I was asked politely to move here. My wife will follow shortly, she's got a project to finish for the school district. She works with ESL programs as a consultant. All that aside, anything I should know?"

Before Sandy could answer, Amanda popped her head around, looking very surprised. "Oh, hi, I heard voices," she said.

Dwayne stood, offering his hand. "Dwayne Griffin, new assistant store manager. Who are you, miss?"

"Amanda Collins, inventory manager," she said, taking his calloused hand in her own. "I'm pleased to meet you, Dwayne," she added, returning his smile tentatively. "I'd get Carla, our HR manager, but this is her day off."

"Oh, I know Carla well, we worked together a few years back," Dwayne said, "so that won't be a problem. So, tell me about Wheatley."

Amanda and Sandy looked at each other, then Amanda led off, giving a brief history of Collins Hardware and the town, with Sandy following up with the conversion of the store to a Jenkins store and the issues that followed. "And a third of the store will be out in two days due to the funeral of an important resident," Sandy concluded, "so don't expect to meet everyone at once. Amanda and I have been working on a revised schedule for Thursday morning."

"I appreciate the update," Dwayne said. "Was he someone that either one of you knew well?"

"He was the pastor at my church for as long as I can remember," Amanda said softly. "I need to go to the funeral."

Dwayne nodded. "Rightfully so, Amanda. Well, I guess I should log in and start seeing what kind of mischief I can get into here," he said, dark eyes twinkling. "And you might let it drop that I played football in college, that usually helps to break the ice a bit."

"Will do," said Sandy. "We'll talk more later, Dwayne. Come on, Amanda."

"Pleasure to meet you," Amanda chimed in before following Sandy back to her office. "Well, that's interesting," she said as she plopped down in her accustomed seat.

"Yes, it is," Sandy agreed, "you're a local, how will this be taken?"

"Not well, I'm afraid," Amanda admitted, "we had very few blacks in town until just this year, and not many more Hispanics. I'm not sure people will accept Mr. Griffin and his wife. By the way, Robin is moving, and I can't afford a two bedroom apartment by myself. I'm going to have to find a new place to live, or move in with my parents. Too bad you don't have room at your house."

Sandy shook her head quickly. "Amanda, let's not talk about that at work. We can check to see if there are any small apartments, or one bedrooms available."

"I don't think there are any left," Amanda said. "Sorry about the other remark. I guess I'll talk to my parents about moving back, unless you wanted to move into Robin's room."

"Not appropriate, let's continue this discussion outside of work. Now, how are we doing on the inventory reports?" Sandy asked.

The church was overflowing on the day of the funeral with family, congregation, city officials, and major business leaders. James Wilson nervously ascended to the pulpit, waiting for the assembly to finish filling in. He took a deep breath, then started the funeral service. "Our beloved pastor, Carl Peter Matthews, was born seventy-seven years ago to Loren and Colleen Matthews, the first of five children. He married Viola Lee Brown fifty three years ago, taking over this pulpit from his father. They were never fortunate enough to have children of their own, but fostered many children in the ensuing years. Over the years, Pastor Matthews has ministered to several generations of faithful Christians in Wheatley. Unfortunately, was called by our Lord too soon before he could complete his task on earth. Now if you will turn in your hymnals and rise to sing, 'How Great Thou Art', one of his favorite hymns."

James stepped away from the pulpit as the choir director approached to lead the congregation in song. He had worked hard on this service, and prayed over each word. Sister Matthews had supplied details of their work together, and had given him a list of Pastor Matthews' favorite hymns and scriptures. James glanced down at his notes, mentally preparing himself for the rest of the service.

Hymns were sung by the choir and the congregation, tributes were offered by leading citizens, and James finished with a short sermon, reminding the gathering of Christ's promise of eternal life. The funeral director and his assistants prepared the casket for the final viewing as James stood back up, inviting all to file by the casket for one last farewell. "Our beloved brother in Christ is leaving his mortal shell, but will live forever in our hearts. After the viewing, we will proceed to the Wheatley Cemetery for a short graveside service, then gather back here in the dining hall for lunch and time to visit and remember Pastor Matthews." He stepped back, grateful that he had made it so far without breaking down.

Several hours later, James followed Viola through the serving line, exhausted physically and emotionally by the services. He numbly let the hospitality committee fill his plate as he followed the pastor's widow down the line, past all of the myriad of serving dishes, finally to the head table. "James, that was a beautiful service, Carl would be so proud of you," Viola said as they sat down.

"Thank you, Sister," he said, the praise warming his heart. "I tried to do my best to honor his life. We've had quite a good turnout."

"That we have," she agreed, reaching for her iced tea.

James and Viola were constantly interrupted during their meal as people streamed by, offering condolences and memories of Pastor Matthews. He knew that Viola had to be exhausted, yet greeted each person warmly, even as her meal grew cold. He considered asking people to wait, but decided to follow her lead. His own meal grew cold, but he wasn't very hungry anyway, knowing that this service had marked the real transition from Pastor Matthews' leadership to his own leadership of Holy Redeemer Church. It scared him, yet excited him at the same time.

The crowd finally thinned, and James and Viola were able to finish their meals. James was surprised by one last visitor, Donna Ramon, the nurse who was at Pastor Matthews' side when he passed on. "Miss Ramon!" he called out. "Excuse me, Sister Matthews," he said as he stood up.

"James, that was a beautiful service," the nurse said when he hurried to her. "You did a wonderful job, I could really get a sense of the man behind the pulpit as you described his years on earth. How is Mrs. Matthews doing?"

"She's holding up better than I am," he admitted frankly. "I am pleased and surprised to see you here."

She smiled, a dimple appearing her tan left cheek. "I had several days off and decided to visit my Aunt Leticia and Uncle Juan. They mentioned that the funeral was today, so I decided to come."

"That is very nice of you," he said.

She smiled shyly. "Well, I did have an ulterior motive, I wanted to see you again, and although the timing is not the best, I decided to take it. Do you mind that I did?"

"Oh, no, it's very fine," James said, smile creeping on his face. "How long are you in town, Miss Ramon?"

"What's this Miss Ramon business? Please, call me Donna," the nurse said, laying a warm hand on his arm.

James boldly placed a hand over hers. "Donna, then. How long are you in town? May I see you again?"

"I'm here for two days, then I have to get back to work in Lubbock." She glanced around, adding in a lowered voice, "I'm applying for a job at the hospital here. My aunt and uncle are getting older, and my cousins are scattered to the four winds. Since I'm single, it's easier for me to move here to look after them than any of their own children. Are you free for dinner? I'm sure my aunt and uncle would not mind you coming to visit us at dinner."

"I'd enjoy that," James replied, "just tell me where they live and when to come."

She reached in her purse for a notepad and pen, scribbling the address and phone number down. "We usually have dinner at seven. Where should I call to confirm?"

"Um," he said, thinking. "Just call my apartment, I have an answering machine." He took the pad and pen, quickly writing out his address, home phone, and church office phone. "We don't have answering machines at the church, but I'll give it to you anyway."

"I'll confirm and leave you a message. I'd better say hello to Mrs. Matthews," Donna said.

"Oh, yes," James said, offering his arm. She took it, letting him lead her over to speak with the widow. They approached Viola, and Donna spoke with her briefly as James watched. She is so sweet to come to the funeral, he thought, and she may move here. I wonder if she would join the church? I'd sure like to see more of her. "I need to speak with the hospitality committee, so how about I meet you back here in about fifteen minutes?" James asked.

"Terrific. See you in a few minutes," Donna agreed. She pulled out her phone and walked off to the hallway, leaving James to go speak to the committee.

"Thank you for such a splendid lunch," James said as he entered the kitchen. "I know that Sister Matthews appreciates your ministry of service."

"Our pleasure," said one of the women, "it's the least we could do for our beloved pastor. You did a good job, Brother Wilson."

James chatted with them for a few minutes, making sure that they would lock the church after cleaning up. He made a note to himself to find out who all had keys to the church, a detail he'd never thought about before. Being head pastor is like being a manager, he realized with a start. I hope I'm up to the challenge.

A short time later, he met Donna back in the dining hall. "Well, James, I decided to go ahead and call," she said, "Aunt Leticia said for me to bring you home tonight, so she and Uncle Juan can meet you. They have these notions that they still need to approve of my friends, even though I've been on my own for years. You still have the phone and address I gave you?"

"Yes," he said, patting the pocket where he had stashed the note.

"Then you are expected at 6:30 tonight. You don't have to dress up in a suit, but I'd suggest slacks and a nice sweater. Be prepared for anything - Auntie likes to experiment with her cooking." She flashed him a dazzling smile, which he found himself returning. "I look forward to seeing you again, James."

"I look forward to seeing you, and to meeting your aunt and uncle," he answered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. They both stood for a moment, then James broke the silence. "I still have a few things to do. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes, see you tonight." She flashed another smile and was gone.

Albert and Charlotte walked into their house, talking about the funeral. "You knew it would be well attended," Albert mused, "I'm a little disappointed that Amanda wasn't there, or if she was, I didn't see her."

"Bert, she probably had to work, there was a really good turnout of store employees," Charlotte defended her daughter. "So what did you think of James?"

"He's matured rapidly, Lottie," Bert decided, "I didn't think he was ready for this, but he's coming along. I'm glad he didn't do a long sermon with the funeral. Viola must have given him a lot of material to work with, he did an outstanding eulogy."

"He did," Charlotte agreed. "Coffee?"

"Yes, definitely. Any hope of getting some of those spice cookies with the coffee?"

She swatted his arm affectionately as she hung her coat in the hall closet. "Bert, I swear, you're going to gain ten pounds if you don't stop eating so many cookies! But yes, we can have spice cookies with our coffee, but we have to go for a long walk tonight to counter the cookies."

"Fine with me," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I'll get the coffee started after I change clothes."

"Thank you," Charlotte said as she followed him to their bedroom. As she changed into corduroys and a sweatshirt, she asked, "Did you see that young lady talking to James after the lunch?"

"Guess I didn't pay much attention," he admitted, "who was she?"

"I think she was one of the Ramon girls, the one who went to nursing school," Charlotte said, "I'm trying to think of her name."

"Got me." Albert said, rummaging through a drawer for a sweater. "Charles Ramon worked for me for a couple of years, but I think he and his wife moved. His brother, Juan, stayed and have worked a small farm on the edge of town."

"The girl looked like Juan, but I don't think she was one of theirs, all of their children moved off. Maybe she is one of Charles Ramon's daughters, he had two, I think. She must be the baby of the family. Wish I could remember her name."

"I'm sure you'll think of it eventually. Why the sudden interest?" Albert asked as he finished changing clothes.

Charlotte followed him into the kitchen, still thinking about the young lady. "Because young James was looking at her with adoring puppy dog eyes, Bert, and I'm not sure he's thought about her people."

"Huh?" Albert asked, reaching for the coffee carafe. "What does her people have to do with anything?"

Charlotte pulled out the cookie jar and set it on the table as she delicately explained, "You know how this town is, Bert, and the Ramons are Hispanic. The grandparents of Charles and Juan came here from Mexico, and you know how people react to what they call mixed marriages. I just don't want this to come back and hurt James."

"Oh, I didn't think about it. But several of the guys who worked for me married Mexicans, and I never heard any issues."

"But they weren't pastors of one of the most powerful and most conservative churches in Wheatley," Charlotte pointed out. "Our schools may be integrated, but our social circles are not. I hate to admit it in this day and age, but it's the God's own truth."

"Crap," Albert muttered, thinking about it. "Come to think of it, I can remember when they integrated the schools in Wheatley. Caused a big ruckus, but our football team had a winning season the year after, and that kept mouths shut. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I do," Charlotte said, holding out her mug. As Albert poured the coffee, she added, "I played basketball in high school, remember? We had a couple of black girls on the team, really good players, and the rest of the team didn't really accept them off the court. It's really sad to think that all these so called Christians still discriminate against anyone of a different race or creed." She took a sip of coffee, then asked the question uppermost on her mind. "Amanda called last night, Robin has moved to Dallas, and she can't afford that apartment by herself. She's trying to find another option, but may have to move back home."

"Just when I was getting used to an empty nest," Albert said as he reached for another cookie. "She's always welcome home, though."

"It could be interesting, now that she's had a taste of freedom," Charlotte said.

"Lottie, she may find another roommate, or another place to live. Let's not worry about it until then. If she has to move back with us, that's fine, we haven't done anything to her room." He thought a moment, adding, "I'm not going to worry about what might be, and neither should you."

Charlotte sipped her coffee, keeping other thoughts to herself. What happens if she wants to bring Sandy over?

"Robin sure moved in a hurry," Sandy commented, looking around the nearly empty apartment. "I guess I didn't realize that she had nearly all the furniture."

"All I have is my bedroom furniture and a few things in the kitchen. I'll be able to make it another month, but after that, I either have to get a roommate, find a cheaper apartment, or move back home," Amanda said. "At least I was able to get this card table and chairs at a garage sale recently, so we have a place to eat dinner."

"True," Sandy agreed as she opened her take out box. "The company has temporarily put Dwayne up in a hotel room until he can find a place for him and his wife to move in to."

Amanda opened her box of chicken strips and fries, looking thoughtful. "Sandy, I don't have much stuff, as you pointed out, so what if Dwayne and his wife moved here, and I moved in with you? It would solve two problems immediately."

"Amanda, as much as I'd love to do that, it would not look good." Sandy unwrapped her burger, taking a bite and swallowing it before continuing. "It's bad enough that we're sneaking around, but to actually live together?"

"It would be nice, though, to wake up with you every morning," Amanda said longingly.

"As long as we work together, it's a problem," Sandy pointed out. "And my little cottage has one bedroom."

"Or, you could move here and offer Dwayne your place," Amanda countered, "and remember, Greg and Don in lumber are sharing an apartment. Greg is the department manager, and Don works for him."

"But they've done that since before the store was bought out," Sandy pointed out. "Honey, need I also point out that we haven't really been dating that long? Are we ready for the step of moving in together? And Greg and Don are friends, not lovers."

"If I move back with Mom and Dad, or get another roommate, I can't see you," Amanda said plaintively, "and we certainly can't sleep together. I just want to be with you, Sandy. I wish we could date openly."

"If we worked in different companies, or lived somewhere else, there would be the possibility," Sandy said. "I know, it's not fair." They ate a few minutes in silence, each lost in her own thoughts, until Sandy broke the silence. "This is hard on me too, Amanda."

"I know it is," Amanda said. "At least we have this evening together. Can you spend the night?"

"I don't dare chance it, someone might notice," Sandy said sadly.

"You mean it's still a small town, and your truck might be recognized," Amanda surmised, disappointed.

"Yeah, that," Sandy acknowledged. She finished her meal and took her trash to the kitchen to toss it. "I miss having Robin's TV, it was a good excuse to stay for a while."

Amanda walked her trash over, washing her hands after dumping it. "I miss her TV too, never thought I would. I miss her couch to snuggle on. But, I still have a full sized bed, if you get my drift, Sandy."

Sandy smiled at the younger woman as she took her turn washing her hands. "I do at that," she agreed, reaching for the towel. She followed Amanda into her bedroom, closing the door out of habit. "Did you lock the front door?" she asked.

"Yes, dear," she said, "locked and chained. Curtains drawn. I think we're safe for now." She pushed the older woman down on the bed, straddling her hips. "Less talk, more action," she instructed.

"Gladly," Sandy said, reaching for her lover. They came together, kissing languidly, gradually building heat until clothes started flying across the room. "Oh, God, you're great," Sandy mumbled against Amanda's neck.

"Ditto," Amanda growled, kissing down Sandy's neck and chest. "I never dreamed that I'd be making love with a woman," she breathed before taking a nipple in her lips. Sandy just gurgled inarticulately, slamming her head back against the pillow as Amanda lavished attention on her body. "All mine," Amanda said possessively as she ran hands under Sandy's back toward her cheeks.

The mutterings became more guttural as they took turns bringing each other to climax. Finally, they lay cooling from their passions, staying connected as they talked about their dreams. "Amanda," Sandy said as she traced one finger along her jawline, "if you could do anything you wanted, what would you do?"

"I don't know, really," Amanda answered, "but I'd love to travel. I want to spend more time with you." She closed her eyes a moment, then looked into Sandy's gray-green eyes. "I enjoy the work I'm doing, but I'm starting to wonder why I'm staying in Wheatley. I had the chance to move to Dallas with Robin, but I didn't want to leave you. Most of my friends are either married or engaged, my brother and his family have moved away, and now my parents are talking about traveling more. So there's nothing here to hold me."

"Mm." Sandy rolled over on her back, pulling Amanda against her. "I know. When I first arrived, I relished the challenge of bringing an independent store into the Jenkins system, and thought I'd like a smaller town. But I miss the big city, and all the cultural activities. I know we can go to Lubbock or Amarillo for some culture, but still." She turned her head, kissing Amanda's temple. "Honey, I'd better go now before I start getting sleepy."

Amanda turned in Sandy's arms, facing her. "Stay, Sandy, please? I want to wake up with you."

"No, Amanda, it's still a small town, and even though we can spend time together, we shouldn't push it by me spending the night with you." She slid out from the covers, looking for her underwear. "Besides, what would the neighbors say?"

"Probably not much," Amanda said, "I don't even know who my neighbors are. They're all employees of Butler Drilling."

"But I don't have any clothes here, and I have a meeting at seven in the morning," Sandy reminded her as she dressed.

"Pull out the practical card," Amanda teased. "Okay, but some day, we can stay the night."

Sandy looked at the younger woman and smiled. "If I can. Goodnight, Amanda." She grabbed her purse and jacket and was gone.

James concentrated as David Hibbitts showed him the new computer system. "I have a network set up, so now you can store your sermons, have a staff calendar, and my aunt can keep the bookkeeping and the membership roster at her fingertips. I'm in the process of reserving a domain name and looking for web hosts and email systems."

The pastor nodded, hoping he could remember everything that the secretary's nephew was teaching him. "So I can write out my sermons on this, and look back at old ones?"

"Yup, and you can rearrange them, make notes, have certain passages highlighted in different colors, and print them out. It's a lot to learn, but I think you'll enjoy the end results."

"Thank you, David," James said, looking up from his new computer. "I'm sure I'll have lots of questions, but I will try to take it from here."

"Great!" David stood and reached for his coat from the back of his chair. "Once you get used to having a computer, you'll wonder how you ever did anything without it. I'll just pop by and see if my aunt wants to go to lunch."

"Oh, it is getting to be lunch time," James said, wondering if he'd taken too much of David's time. "I'm sure Mrs. Hibbitts would love to have lunch with you." He watched the young man leave, pondering what he would do for lunch. Again, he had been so busy trying to balance running the church and making the rounds of the sick that he had completely forgotten to pack a lunch again. He thought a moment, looking at his paper calendar, wondering how long it would take to transfer everything to the computer. Should I also get a cell phone? Donna has one, and she was able to look at her schedule on the phone, he mused. Speaking of Donna, I wonder if she has any lunch plans. Before he could lose his thought, he pulled out his worn phone book and looked for the entry he had made just a few days ago.

"Good morning, Wheatley Memorial Hospital," the receptionist's voice chirped.

"Yes, good morning, this is Pastor James Wilson," he said, "is Donna Ramon available?"

"One moment, please," he heard her say. He waited patiently, taking time to think about where they could meet for lunch. "Donna Ramon," he heard the nurse say, "how may I help you?"

"This is James Wilson," he said, heart lifting at the sound of her voice, "and I was wondering if you were free for lunch today."

"Oh, James, what a pleasure to hear from you. Yes, I'm free for lunch in about thirty minutes, where would you like to meet?"

"How about the Pizza Palace? It's just a few blocks from the hospital, has both buffet and pizzas to order," James offered. "I could pick you up, I'm planning to make my hospital visitations after lunch anyway."

"Very good idea, James. I'll meet you in the lobby by the reception desk in half an hour. Listen, I have to go now, but I'll see you very soon. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too, Until then, farewell," he said, resisting the sudden urge to laugh. I just feel so happy around her, he thought as he placed the receiver back in the cradle. She seems to really like me.

A bit later, he was anxiously waiting in the lobby for the nurse to appear, forcing himself not to pace or check his watch. He knew that nurses sometimes were caught up in caring for patients, and he did not know Donna well enough yet to gauge her habits. As he reminded himself of these facts, she came striding up to him, a big smile on her face, beautiful dark eyes sparkling, "Good afternoon, James," she said as she took his arm lightly. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is mine," he said in same light tone as he laid his hand over hers. "Are you ready to go?"

"Oh, yes," she said, "I am famished!"

He smiled shyly, escorting her to his car as she kept up a steady chatter about her morning. He handed her into the car, quickly going around to the driver's side, not wanting to miss a single word she uttered in her beautiful musical voice. The drive was short, and too soon they arrived. He parked, jumping out to run around to help her out of the car, holding out his arm for her to take.

Minutes later, they were walking through the line, picking up their plates. James looked almost longingly at the thick gooey pizzas, but decided to start with a light salad, just like Donna was doing. He did his best to pick out healthy foods, foregoing the temptation to dump a huge dollop of dressing on his salad, instead, drizzling it with a light hand. They made their way to an empty booth, with James volunteering to go back for their drinks. "Just iced tea, unsweet, for me, James," Donna called out.

"Coming right up," he promised, heading for the drink bar. He filled their glasses with ice and tea, deciding to follow her lead. He gathered straws and forks before heading back to the booth. "Here you go, Donna," he said, placing everything on the table."

"Thank you, James," she said as she took a long sip of her tea. "Ah, this is refreshing. Now for a bit of salad before choosing my pizza." She ate a bite. "So, I've already chattered off your ears, how has your morning fared?"

He swallowed his bite before answering, "Good. We had someone come in and install computers at the church, so I've been rather busy." He described the morning, learning about the computers, and the new round of decisions that needed to be made regarding networks and getting a web site up and running. "And I've also thought maybe it is time for me to get a cell phone. Pastor Matthews was against them, but I've been rethinking his stance. Even Amanda has a cell phone now, and they seem quite handy. Imagine having my calendar at my fingertips."

"They are quite handy, but can also be a time waster," Donna cautioned as she chased the last bite. "But, if you did get one, you could text me about lunch plans rather than go through the switchboard," she said. "Ready for pizza?"

"Sure," he said, wiping his mouth before following her to the pizza line. James followed her lead, taking a few slices of thin cheese pizza, and one thin slice of hamburger pizza before retaking their seats. "I've heard about texting," he said, "is it hard to learn?"

"No, not if you can type," Donna said. "And forgive my curiosity, who is Amanda?"

He suddenly didn't quite know what to say. My former fiancé? My best friend from high school? A member of my church? He settled on honesty. "Amanda and I were engaged, but she broke it off about six months ago. We're still friends, I suppose."

"And you still care for her," Donna said.

He thought about it for a moment. "I do, but as a friend. As much as I hate to admit it, she was right, we really weren't suited to marry. I guess since we dated in high school and kept dating, we drifted into an engagement. I always knew that I was expected to marry, to set a good example for other young people in the church." A sudden dark thought crossed his mind. "What about you? Are you dating, or have you ever been engaged?"

"No worries, dear James, I am single. I told you that, remember? That's why I was able to come to take care of my Aunt Leticia and Uncle Juan. But also in answer, no, I have never been engaged. Yes, I dated a few men, but not many, as I have high standards."

"Oh," he said, relieved. "Um, are you doing anything Friday night? Several of the youth from the church are on the high school football team, and I was thinking of going to the game. Would you like to go, then maybe get some dinner after?"

She smiled beguilingly. "I'd adore it, James. I'm not scheduled to work Friday night, but it will have to be a bit of an early evening, since I am working this weekend. I'll call you and confirm later this week."

"That would be grand," he said, beaming. He checked his watch and frowned. "Lunch is almost over."

"So it is," Donna said, "but I have enjoyed our time together. Thank you for thinking of me."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied happily.

Robin dropped on her couch, exhausted. Starting a new job in a new city was more taxing than she had anticipated, and Dallas traffic was really bad. She thought she had dealt with big city traffic when she went to Lubbock or Amarillo, but this was far worse. Too bad she couldn't afford an apartment on the train line, there was a station within walking distance of work.

"I wonder how Amanda is doing," she wondered out loud as she finally had the energy to hang up her coat. She glanced at the clock, it was only six o'clock. She had no idea what her friend's schedule was, but she could always shoot a quick text. Hey, can you talk? she queried.

Just got home. Talk in ten minutes?

Sure. I'll call you in ten. Hugs.

:-)

Robin wandered to her bedroom, shedding clothes as she went. By the time she reached her room, she was reaching for comfy sweats and fuzzy slippers, ready for a good chin wag, as her granny used to say. She got propped up her pillows and settled the teddy bear in her lap that Amanda gave her just before she moved, smiling at her friend's thoughtfulness.

The minutes crawled until the designated time. Robin eagerly tapped Amanda's number, waiting to hear her friend's voice. "Hey, girlfriend, how's life these days? Still in the apartment, or did you have to move? How's Sandy?" Robin asked in a rush.

"I'm fine, just really busy these days, Robin. It is so good to hear from you, I miss you. I'm still in the apartment, my folks said I could move home. Since all the bills are paid up, I can hang on another month before I really have to make a decision."

"Yeah, I feel pretty bad leaving you in a lurch like that, but I still wish you could have moved with me. I do understand you wanting to stay near Sandy."

"I know, I miss you too, Robin, the place is too quiet without you. I miss having someone to talk to when I get home. But yeah, the store is busy, and we have a new assistant manager, Dwayne Griffin. He's got some folks stirred up, some of these older guys are not happy about him being here."

"Why?" Robin asked, "because he's another outsider?"

"Nope, it's his dark skin color."

"I see," Robin said, instantly understanding, "so they're not happy about taking orders from an African-American? I can see some of those older guys about to pop from that. Sheesh. They'd really be upset at the office here, I think we have a mini United Nations. It's fun, I'm learning more about other cultures that I ever thought possible."

"Of course, Ryan Wilcox and his cronies are aghast at the changes. Makes having a woman as the store manager seem mild in comparison. If Ryan could afford it, I swear he'd quit tomorrow, but I'm sure he's let his plumber's license lapse, and he did run his business into the ground before he went to work for Daddy years ago. Oh, did you hear the latest?"

"No, do tell."

"Jimmy is dating a new nurse at the hospital. And get this, she's Juan and Leticia Ramon's niece, Juan's brother's daughter, Donna. She's pretty, very nice, and a nurse at the hospital."

"How's that going over with your lily white church?" Robin asked drolly.

Amanda chuckled. "I think the congregation is divided. The younger crowd doesn't care, and the older crowd can't decide if her race outweighs her being a respectable woman and a nurse. She moved to Wheatley to take care of her aunt and uncle, and immediately got a job in the hospital. She had worked at one of the big hospitals in Lubbock. Anyway, the very idea of him dating a Hispanic woman has some very uneasy."

"So have you talked to him?"

"I have. I had supper with him the other night, and I tell you, Robin, Jimmy is a changed man. He's lost weight, he's more confident, and he's head over heels in love with Donna. I don't think he's realized yet that he's courting trouble by dating her, but I'm not going to bring it up. He seems happier than I've ever seen him, so I'm glad for him. And if that wasn't enough, he's been making changes right and left at the church. I may have to go back just to see the fireworks."

"Changes?" Robin asked, incredulous. "What changes?"

"After Pastor Matthews died, Jimmy said the Holy Spirit gave him a mission to open up the church to more people. The youth asked why we don't really feed the hungry, etc., so now we're offering a free breakfast to low income people on Sunday mornings. He's opened the gym to school children for an after school program, and he's insisting that we provide mission support to the poor in our own town. It's caused an uproar, but even as older members are leaving, new ones are flocking in."

"So Jimmy suddenly grew a backbone, eh?" Robin said. "How do you feel about that? And how do you feel about him dating someone else?"

"I just want him to be happy, and I sure hope that the church realizes that he's actually doing what the gospels say," Amanda answered, chuckling. "Oh, and he's now going by James. I keep forgetting, but he's pretty adamant now that he's James, not Jimmy."

"Good for him. Change of subject, sweetie, how's it going with Sandy?" Robin asked.

Amanda hesitated before answering in a rush, "Pretty good, although Sandy's still nervous about our relationship and us working together. We did talk the other night about the possibility of looking for jobs elsewhere, moving from Wheatley. I've never lived anywhere else, but I'm feeling pretty constricted. So what do you think of Dallas? Do you like it? How is your job? Gosh, I miss you, Robin."

"I miss you too, Amanda. I like it here, haven't made many friends yet, but I went out with a co-worker the other night for dinner. I'm trying different churches, looking for a fit. The traffic is frightening, that's for sure. You know you see car chases and such on movies, with the traffic stacked up for miles? It's like that all the time here! If I didn't have GPS on my phone I'd be lost constantly, but I'm learning my way around. And I'm looking forward to starting school."

A silence fell for several seconds, then Amanda asked, "Do you think I should follow Sandy if she moves?"

Robin played with her sweatshirt hem, thinking. "Well," she finally said, "do you love her? Are you willing to move from everything you know? Have you even looked to see what jobs you can get?"

"I think so. Sandy's teaching me how to look for jobs online, and I've realized that I really should have gone to college, but Pastor Matthews was so dead set against women getting an education. It's ironic, in a way, since his wife taught school for a while, and his secretary had a bachelor's in secretarial science."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Robin chuckled. "Well then, I think you should explore your options. But are you ready for a commitment to Sandy?"

"I'm not sure."

"What aren't you sure about? I thought you and Sandy were pretty tight, Amanda."

"I just don't know. We can't spend much time together, and can't spend the night together." A sudden beeping noise interrupted her train of thought. "I'd better get moving, Robin, I had a split shift today and have to get back to the store by seven. I miss you and love you."

"Love you bunches and miss you too! Bye!"

"Bye!"

Robin disconnected the call, looking at her phone for a moment. I do miss Amanda so much and really wish she were here, but it sounds like she's got a lot to work out with Sandy. Now, what do I want to fix for dinner? She groaned as she levered herself off the couch, migrating to the kitchen.

Donna awoke to the smell of sausage and coffee wafting from the kitchen. She flipped back the covers, shivering as her feet hit the soft rag rug covering the old wooden floor. Who is taking care of whom? she asked herself wryly as she dashed to the bathroom. Moments later, she strolled into the kitchen, warmly greeting her aunt.

"Good morning, love," Aunt Leticia say, pausing in her cooking to accept Donna's quick kiss. "How did you sleep?"

"Quite well, thank you. Where's Uncle Juan?"

"He's checking on the goats this morning, but should be in shortly." Her aunt deftly filled a plate with scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and hash browns. "How is work? Getting used to the slower pace of our little town?"

Donna accepted her plate, setting it down before moving to the battered coffee pot. "It is a little slower, but I'm getting used to it. I saw a lot of cardiac and stroke victims in Lubbock, but here, I'm seeing more industrial accidents from the wells and farms. The life of an emergency room nurse, lots of boredom with moments of fast-paced action. So how are you and Uncle Juan?"

"We're doing fine, Donna. Juan recovered completely from his little spell, and having you here is a Godsend. He looks forward to talking to you every day. All of your cousins married and moved off, so it's nice to have a younger person in the house again. I'm going to start going back to the quilting guild at church next week." She filled her own plate and sat at the table, pausing to offer thanks. "So," she said as she poured salsa over her eggs, "how are things going with your young man?"

Donna ate a few bites first, smiling as she thought about the young minister. "Very well, Aunt Leticia, I really like him. He's so excited about the changes at Holy Redeemer." She took a few more bites, adding, "But the elders are not taking kindly to the changes. I get the feeling they are trying to block his new directions for the church."

Leticia sighed. "I know of some of these men, they tried to get the city to condemn our farm so they could use if for the new city hall. I suspect they had searched the land records and found out that we were some of the few people smart enough to get ahold of our mineral rights, and what they really wanted was to lease out our land to the drillers. They thought we were dumb Mexicans, and would believe anything."

"Auntie, I didn't know that! But James has a lot of ideas to make things better. I really believe that God is speaking through him."

"We'll see. Do his precious elders know he's dating you?" she asked, curious.

"I don't know, but I've attended a couple of times. We're keeping it quiet right now, wanting to make sure of ourselves before we really announce that we're dating."

"Bring your young man back over soon, then," Leticia said. Changing the subject, she asked, "So, what is your schedule this week? It changes so often that you need to post it on the calendar, I swear!"

Donna smiled as she patted her aunt's hand. "I'll post it soon, I promise. I'm working the next two days, then off for three. I'll have a regular schedule in a week or two, so you will have an easier time keeping up with me. I'm working the afternoon to evening shift today and tomorrow, then I think I'm working the day shift next week. Did you need me to do something?"

"No, not really. Your uncle is doing well, thank God, but we do both need to go in for our annual physicals. When you know your schedule next week, we'd like to plan our appointments so you can go with us. Having a medical professional along should make it easier."

Donna finished her eggs and started on her sausage as she asked, "Why? What do you need interpreted?"

"Nothing, dear, we just want to make sure all bases are covered. We're both on low doses of high blood pressure medicine, and I want you to talk to our doctor to make sure we're getting what we need. You know."

"Ah." Donna did know from experience that doctors often forgot to talk about side effects or drug interactions. "Are you or Uncle Juan having any issues with your medication?"

"No, but it wouldn't hurt to discuss it with the doctor. Your uncle's arthritis is acting up more, now that it's so cold, but he won't say anything."

Ah, the real issue rears its head, she thought. "Duly noted. Since I have some time, I'll go get dressed and check on Uncle. I bet he'd like help with the goats."

"What a sweet girl," Leticia beamed. "Your parents raised you right, bless their hearts."

Donna just smiled as she helped herself to another piece of toast. She had fond memories of helping out on the farm when she was younger, when her cousins all lived at home. Her parents had moved away from the farm as fast as possible, both entering the medical field, her mother as a pediatric nurse and her father as a radiation technician. She still missed them after they decided to retire to Florida, basking in the warmth of the beaches.

She ducked into the barn, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmer light before she walked over to her Uncle. "Good morning, Uncle Juan," she said, easing her way into the pen.

He looked up, beaming. "Good morning, Donna, coming to check on your old uncle?"

She smiled as she grabbed another bucket and stool. "You are too wise."

"Just wise enough," he chuckled. "Sit, sit, I'm done with these mamas, and only lack Sister Blackie there."

Donna smiled as she placed the bucket under the goat, automatically preparing to milk her. "Times seem to never change on the farm," she said as she got into rhythm. After the first few squirts, she asked casually, "So, Aunt Leticia says you are scheduling your annual physicals. Any concerns, or just a routine checkup?"

"Mostly routine, although I admit that my joints ache a bit more than usual this winter. So, I suppose your aunt has already asked you to go with us to the doctor."

"You knew she would, Uncle Juan."

A smile split his dark face. "She's convinced that without our own medical professional, the doctor will miss something. I guess she could be right, since our old doctor retired and we're going to his younger partner now. Still, it's good to have you here." They milked in companionable silence for a short while before Juan asked, "Forgive an old man for being nosy, but how are things with James? Leticia was surprised at his good manners, said he was very polite for a gringo."

"She thinks no one is good enough for me," Donna laughed. "I do like him, Uncle Juan. He treats me like a lady. I never thought I would date a minister, I always thought I'd wind up dating a medical professional of some kind."

"As long as he treats you well and respects you," Juan commented as he stood up and stretched. "My back grumbles more all the time. Take care of your back, young lady, and it will treat you better in your old age."

"But Uncle Juan, you're not old," she protested as she picked up the full bucket.

He smiled indulgently as he took the bucket from her, strolling over to the collector. He poured it in, then started the equipment that would process the milk. "My dear Donna, I'm older than you realize. But getting back to your young man, I hear that he's surprising everyone. He's always been rather quiet, and now he's causing quite the ruckus. Imagine, feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, lending a helping hand."

She smiled at her uncle's wide-eyed look. "James is causing quite a stir, I agree, and I like it. He takes the gospels seriously, and the message that we're to help those less fortunate, and to not discriminate. He said that he's losing older members, but is gaining people our age and younger."

"Speaking of age, my dear, how old is James?"

She helped her uncle into his coat as they prepared to leave the barn. "I think he's twenty-two. He took a little longer to get through seminary, but will graduate this December."

"And you are..."

"You know how old I am. I'm twenty-seven, same age as your youngest, Carlos."

Juan shook his head as he took her arm. "Dear me, a preacher, a gringo, and you are robbing the cradle. Three strikes."

"But he makes me happy," she said, turning more serious. "And as I said, he treats me like a lady, like you treat Aunt Leticia, like my father treats my mother. Not like Jorge treated me."

"It is good that you are rid of that bastard," Juan said roughly. "If he had been here instead of Lubbock, I would have castrated him."

"Uncle Juan!"

He kissed her cheek. "Ah, I apologize, but it is what I wanted to do. At least the police believed you."

"Uncle Juan, let's drop it," she said, a warning note in her voice. "Besides, you promised never to tell Aunt Leticia or my parents."

"I did. He still in jail?"

Donna paused, hand on the kitchen door handle. "Yes, and likely to remain there, or I would have come back sooner." She smiled and opened the door, calling out, "Look who I found.""

"So now you have the run down," Sandy said as she and Dwayne returned to his office. "Do you have any questions? Think this is enough of a challenge?"

The large dark man grinned. "It's a challenge, to be sure," he said in his deep voice. "Sandy, the look at the faces was absolutely priceless. Imagine, a black man telling me what to do! You could practically hear it, although they were too polite to say so." He dropped into his chair, gesturing for her to sit. "So Ryan Wilcox is the worst offender, I get that. He was the only one rude enough to refuse to shake my hand."

"We've had a lot of trouble with him," Sandy agreed. "According to scuttlebutt, he came to work here about ten years ago to avoid bankruptcy. I'll hand it to him, he does know his stuff, but his attitude sucks. He does everything he can to get out of working nights and weekends. But our evening and weekend consumer sales have skyrocketed, and the daytime sales trending upward. He's also the only one who refuses to use the computer systems, making one of the others input everything."

Dwayne scratched his chin reflectively. "I see. Of course, if I don't actually know these things, Sandy, I can be oh so surprised when he has to get written up for not doing his job. Don't worry, I've handled good old boys like him before. He'll either shape up or leave, I promise you."

"Thanks. Okay, we have a going away dinner for Kent and Sarah tonight, come and go during the dinner hour, roughly having barbecue available between 4:30 and 6:30 so everyone can have some."

"Okay. I look forward to working with you, Sandy."

"Same here, Dwayne." Sandy stood up, stretching. "Man, I'm tired. See you around." She walked to her office, resisting the temptation to drop by Amanda's office. As she entered her office, the phone started ringing. "Jenkins Home Improvement Stores, Cassandra Marcus speaking," she said as she glanced at the display. The district office? flitted through her mind.

"Cassandra, I'm Jack Harvey, new district manager. Is this a good time to chat for a few minutes?" the unfamiliar voice said."

"It's as good as any, and you can call me Sandy," Sandy said blandly, wondering why she was getting a call from the district office. What have we done wrong? "How can I help you?"

"I'll just come right out and ask you, Sandy. What do you think about Amanda Collins? I read that you promoted her from clerk to assistant manager for inventory, and that she's been busy taking classes in Jenkins U."

"She's an excellent worker, Jack," Sandy said cautiously, still wondering where the conversation was leading. "She is always on top of everything, is a quick learner, works well with the rest of the staff."

"She is, huh? So, what do you think about her moving to Dallas, to the new store we're building there? I need an experienced hand with inventory, the guy I was going to place there is decided to take another offer, so I need someone who is flexible and very good at her job. Amanda's name came up in the district office as a good choice. A bit young, but I think we all started out in management at a pretty young age."

Sandy sank down in her chair, swallowing hard as she strove to keep her voice steady and uninflected. "I am sure she would do well, Jack. She is young, true, but she has a steady head on her shoulders, and she had worked in the store when it was still Collins for most of her life. Her parents had owned the store before they sold it to Jenkins."

"Ah, and she made the transition well?"

Sandy bit back the temptation to say, No, she sucked, now leave her alone. "Amanda is an excellent employee, very sharp, I have no problems with recommending her," Sandy told the district manager.

"Good! I'll come down from Amarillo in a few days to speak with her myself, Sandy, thank you for your time. Oh, and I hear that my old college buddy Dwayne is your new assistant store manager. He's great, you'll enjoy working with him."

"I'm sure I will. See you in a few days, Jack." Sandy replaced the phone, irrationally wishing she could yank it out of the wall and hurl it across the room. Despite the challenges, I don't want Amanda to leave, she thought. But it would resolve the issue of how to keep our relationship quiet.

James Wilson moved the rest of his stuff to the main office. He was grateful when Sister Viola said that he could keep all of Brother Carl's books, and his office furniture. He rested a moment, hitching up his loose pants, thinking that he needed to see about buying more clothes soon. Between running the church and courting Donna, he barely had time to eat.

Ah, Donna, he thought with a smile, I'm so happy with you. They had been seeing each other for several weeks now, and had fallen into a routine of taking long walks whenever possible. Now that he had a cell phone, he would sneak out for walks during the day to think, or to go visit people. It was said that you could walk from one side of downtown Wheatley to the other in ten minutes, which was true. He discovered that it took only thirty minutes to walk to the hospital, and would do so when the weather wasn't too cold. But he was happiest when he was taking long walks with the nurse.

He looked around the office, pleased with the results. His parents had paid to have his diploma framed, and promised to come visit soon. His dad had taken a new position with the insurance company last year, which meant a move to Connecticut. It still is lonely without my parents just down the block, he thought as he sat in the desk chair, but Mom would be pleased to see how much weight I've lost. I wonder what they would think about Donna? Smiling, he turned on his computer, pleased that he now remembered his login and password without any prompting. It had taken some getting used to, but he now appreciated the ability to rearrange points of his sermon without having to retype everything.

He opened his email, still a little unsure of everything. Don Hibbitts had given him plenty of instruction when he installed the computer systems, but had also given warnings about opening "spam" emails. He usually just opened ones from addresses he recognized, leaving the rest of one of Don's people to look at later in the day.

"Good morning, Brother James," Mrs. Hibbitts said as she swept into his office, bearing two mugs and a thermos of coffee. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Doing fine, Mrs. Hibbitts," he answered, brightening up as she sat and poured the coffee. "You spoil me," he said, taking one of the mugs and cupping it in his hands. "What brings you in? An errand of mercy, perhaps?" he asked hopefully, indicating the unsorted piles of paper on the desk.

She smiled, shaking her head. "No, no errand of mercy, I'll let you decide what you need done with that pile before I touch it. Brother Carl was always very particular with his filing, and since you've done your own before now, I'll wait before I tell you how I think it should be done." She sipped her coffee, looking around the office. "I see you haven't really changed much," she commented.

"No, I added a few of my textbooks, but you're right, I haven't changed much. It still feels strange to be on this side of the desk."

"I know what you mean," she agreed. "I did come in for a reason, not just to ply you with coffee," she said, turning more serious. "Remember when I say that you needed a wife? He thought back, then nodded his head. "Well, I meant it in the kindest way, but I sure didn't expect this."

"Expect what?" he asked, baffled.

She sighed, setting her cup down on the desk. "Let me be frank with you. I personally don't have any issue with you dating a Mexican, but I'm hearing some thinly veiled complaints from some of the members. My God, you'd think this was the turn of the twentieth, not the twenty-first century. I've known Juan and Leticia Ramon for years, and think the world of their niece, but there are those who are upset that you are dating her. And bringing her to our church! Mercy, James, it's enough to make me want to forget the scripture about turning the other cheek and start knocking a few heads together! How serious are you about her?"

Stunned, he slumped in the chair, forgetting all about his coffee. "You mean, people are upset with me dating a sweet, intelligent woman? A nurse? Just because her skin is a little darker than ours?" He rubbed his temple, feeling a headache starting to gather as he contemplated the idea that someone would be upset about his dating such a wonderful woman. "Mrs. Hibbitts, I just don't understand people."

"Yup. And we're losing donations from some of our older members. I've spared you the worst of the letters and calls, but I need to tell you, you're pissing off some very powerful people with your new direction. I'm all for following the scripture and feeding the hungry and taking care of the poor, but you'd think that you were turning pinko or something, to hear these people talk."

"Is there any good news?" he asked woefully.

She smiled kindly. "The good news is that we are starting to attract a younger crowd, and some of the young teens and adults who left the church are coming back. It doesn't translate into dollars as much, since most of them can't afford to tithe their ten percent, but at least they are coming."

Dear God, help me do what is right, he prayed silently as he picked his forgotten mug back up, taking a long drink of the fragrant coffee. He tapped a finger on the desk top, thinking. "What else?" he finally asked, sure there was more.

"Ryan Wilcox is complaining to anyone who will listen that the church hasn't done enough to keep businesses closed on Sunday."

James groaned out loud, burying his face in his hands. "Just what I need," he mumbled. He looked up, frustrated. "We added a Sunday evening service, a Saturday evening service, and a Wednesday night short service and dinner. Why can't he come at one of these times?"

"He'd rather stir up trouble than to be flexible. When he had his own business, he never worked past five, never answered emergency calls, and did sloppy work. His daddy had started the business, and all he had to do was to keep it going, but he was too lazy, and that's God's own truth. He huffs and puffs, but I'll tell you the truth, he never tithed more than 2-3 percent ever. And he rarely paid his entire pledge." She sat back, eyes glittering with anger. "I don't have any use for that man, and if he left tomorrow, I'd say good riddance."

James thought for several minutes about what the church secretary said. "So it would not be a really bad thing if he left," the minister mused. "So be it. I have to do what the Holy Spirit leads me to do, not what is expedient," he decided.

Mrs. Hibbitts grinned broadly. "James, I do believe you are going to do fine. Just keep growing that backbone and keep challenging us to do what is right, not what is comfortable. Don't let the powerful ones sway you, or tell you what to do."

James straightened up, eye shining with resolve. "We will honor the Lord with our works and our praises," he said decisively, "no matter what. After all, didn't He eat with the poor, the lame, the tax collectors? In fact, Mrs. Hibbitts, I'd like to have a meeting of as many of the ministers in town as can come, see what we can do to band together to help those in need. Something Donna said the other night made me realize that there are a lot of very poor people who have nowhere to go, or working poor who have to decide between paying rent and paying for new shoes for their children. I think I'm being led to action, not just words."

"God bless you, Pastor Wilson," she said, rising. "I'll start calling around to other churches. When do you want to have this meeting?"

He consulted his calendar, then said, "This week. We can use our great hall for the meeting, and if you'd coordinate with the hospitality committees of the church, we can have breakfast or lunch as well." The secretary nodded and left to make it so. He sat back in his chair, slowly swinging to and fro as he went into deep thought and prayer.

Ryan Wilcox hitched up his pants as he walked into the store, loaded for bear. He was furious at the recent changes at work, at church, at home. Brother James, as he now called himself, insisting that they turn to mission work in Wheatley, and not send so much money overseas. And insisting that if they had to work Sunday morning, they could attend another service. But that wasn't the worst, even home was different. His wife, Joanne, was suddenly getting all independent, and had gone to get a part time job at the nursing home recently, saying that they needed the extra income. "What next?" he asked as he punched in.

That new assistant manager, Dwayne Griffin, met him as he was pulling on his vest. "Good morning, Ryan," the dark man boomed, "how are you this morning?"

"Just dandy," Ryan muttered, trying to brush past the man. What were they thinking bringing him here? "Trying to get to my station, that's all," he added.

"Didn't you get the message?" Dwayne asked, still standing in front of Ryan.

"What message?" Ryan asked wearily.

"Delayed opening by thirty minutes, all hands on deck," the assistant manager continued smoothly, "Sandy called it. You should have received the message on your phone at home and your work email. Come on to the front of the store as soon as you can. See you in a few minutes."

Ryan scratched his head in surprise. He didn't remember any message at home, but then again, it was his wife's job to check the answering machine. Just like her to not mention something this important. Maybe Sandy was leaving, and they were getting a man in her place, someone who would understand his importance and let him make his own work schedule. "Hey, John," he called to one of the young men in his department.

"Oh, hey, Ryan," John answered, "the big meeting is fixing to start, let's go get a good spot."

Ryan followed his coworker to the front of the building, where a large crowd had gathered. Sandy was standing on a temporary stage in front of the cash registers, with a portable mike in her hand. Ryan started to get an uneasy feeling in his gut as he saw her exchanging grins with that new assistant manager. What on earth is about to happen? he wondered.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?" Sandy called out. The crowd simmered down, and Ryan started to feel somewhat sick. "I have an announcement to make. Amanda Collins is leaving us, she's been offered a position with a store in Dallas, so this will be a big step up for her."

Ryan's ears started roaring as Sandy spoke, and he was starting to sweat. Guess I shouldn't have had that second cup of coffee, he thought.

"All department managers, I encourage you to apply for the assistant store manager position," Sandy continued, "and if you have prior experience with inventory management, you may apply for Amanda's position, otherwise, it will be filled from another Jenkins manager. Becky is taking over temporarily for Amanda, and she will be reporting to her new job next week as well. Any questions?"

"Hey, Ryan, you look pretty pale," John said softly. "Are you sick?"

"No," Ryan answered, "I don't think so." He wiped the heavy sweat from his brow with his shirt sleeve, leaning heavily on a counter. "I'll be fine in a few minutes."

Sandy took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to break the next news. She hadn't even talked to Amanda about it yet. "I have some more news for you, I'll be leaving Wheatley soon. I've had an offer from the district manager to come work in his office in Amarillo, so Dwayne will be taking over for me as store manager. Dwayne, would you like to say a few words?"

"Yes, Sandy, I would," Dwayne said, his smooth baritone rolling over the gathering. "Folks, I appreciate that there's been a lot of changes in a very short time. I worked for a small hardware store just out of college that was bought out by Jenkins, so I know some of what you are feeling. But as my college football coach used to tell us, you make your game plan, but leave wiggle room to adjust to the flow of the game. We're in that wiggle room now, and I appreciate your support." He smiled, face lighting up. "I'll let you in on a little secret that Sandy was too modest to share. This store is the only one in this district that actually beat the sales projections this quarter, so let's give ourselves a round of applause!" A ragged cheer went up, along with a lot of murmurs of "We did?"

"Now, I know that a lot of you have been pretty upset over the way Jenkins does things, like the longer hours, the mandatory weekend rotations, the use of computers, and the requirement for in store continuing education. I was pretty upset at losing my Sundays as well when the hardware store was sold, so I completely understand. However, you must understand that business has changed dramatically in the past few decades, especially in the past ten or so years. We'll work together, but I want you to concentrate on forming great teams in your departments, and come up with ways we can increase sales even more without making our customers feel like their pockets are being picked. I'll be meeting with each department over the next few months to get your input on this project." Dwayne rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Okay, team, one last thing, then we'll let your get to work. Lunch and supper are on the store today, so we'll have a great spread from Sammy's in the break room. Thanks for your continued support. You may get to work now." He started to turn off the mike, then added, "Of course, you'll get paid for this meeting." Genuine cheers went up with that announcement.

"Buddy, you really don't look good," John said, looking at Ryan in alarm. "You'd better clock out and take a sick day."

"I'll be-" Ryan suddenly slumped, feeling the world slip out from under his feet. John shouted for help as Ryan felt like he was floating, like the world was gently spinning behind misty gray curtains. "Mom?" he whispered as he passed out.

As Ryan slipped and John hollered, Dwayne and Sandy reacted simultaneously. Sandy grabbed the nearest phone to call 911 as Dwayne sprinted to the fallen man, leaning over to check his pulse and breathing. "Stand back!" he called out, slipping off his jacket to lay over the man's legs. "Damn, no pulse," he growled as he started chest compressions. "Do we have an automatic defibrillator?"

"No," Sandy answered as she hung up the phone, "but the paramedics are on the way, just a couple of minutes. John, go make sure the doors are unlocked. Carla, call Ryan's wife, let her know what happened. Everyone else, go to your stations. We'll open as soon as he's safe to transport and we'll let you know how Ryan is doing."

John rushed off to the door while the Carla dashed back to her office to look up Ryan's personnel file. Dwayne kept up the compressions while Sandy checked for a pulse. Someone brought a blanket to drape over him, while others kept watch for the ambulance.

Time seemed to drag on as the paramedics arrived, taking over and shocking Ryan's heart back into life. He gasped and coughed as the men worked on him, expertly preparing him for transport, threading an IV into his arm. The store grew quiet as Ryan was loaded into the ambulance, as if holding their collective breath. As the wails of the sirens faded, the employees shook themselves and prepared to open for business.

Donna Ramon was on duty when the ambulance screeched in with Ryan Wilcox. She and Dr. O'Connor had been rushing to prep the emergency room to receive him since the paramedics had radioed ahead several minutes ago. Although they had only worked together for a short while, they were already a smooth team, calling out for supplies and monitoring equipment, ready to fight for Ryan's life.

Several hours later, they had him stabilized and transferred to ICU. Dr. O'Conner was about to go speak to Ryan's wife when the paramedics brought in another case, so he asked her to go talk to the wife. "I know it's not the way big hospitals do it," he sighed, "but it looks like I have my hands full. Stacy can assist me with this one."

"Will do," Donna said. She sighed deeply as she paused by the lockers to wash her hands and change into a new set of scrubs. Just before she went into the waiting room, she texted James to let him know what had happened. As she left the locker room, he texted back that he was on his way.

"Mrs. Wilcox?" she called out.

"Here," said an older woman, "how is my husband?"

She turned the chair next to Mrs. Wilcox so she could face her. "I'm Donna Ramon, I was working with Dr. O'Connor on your husband. He would have come out, but we had another emergency come in."

"Oh dear. But please, call me Betty," she insisted.

Donna smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "Betty, then. Your husband is stable, and we were able to open a vein leading to his heart." She described the procedure, ending with, "He should be fine, but it will take a while. As he heals, he will need to make some changes to his diet and get more exercise."

"I was afraid this would happen," Betty sighed, gripping Donna's hand tightly. "Old Doc Williams had been warning Ryan for years that he needed to lose weight and eat more sensibly." The petite woman fell silent for a moment, obviously thinking. "Donna, will you tell me what I can feed him?"

The nurse smiled. "Yes, but we'll also have you both talk to a nutritionist about his diet. For now, nothing fried or fatty, cut back on red meat, and start exercising. Do you do any walking? You look quite trim."

"Yes, I walk twice a day. Lord knows I've tried to get that hardheaded husband of mine to walk with me, but he refused, always said he was too tired to walk. At least he stopped smoking several years ago, I told him that he couldn't afford it any more." Her eyes twinkled as she dropped her voice and leaned forward. "I've always paid the bills and run the budget, and he believed me. It was the only way I could get him to stop smoking."

"Good for you!" Donna said, smiling more broadly. She started to say something else when she caught sight of James. "Brother James is here now, Betty, would you like to speak to him alone?"

Betty turned as the pastor walked up. "No, you can stay, if you'd like. Pastor Wilson, it is so good of you to come out to see me."

James pulled up a chair, smiled shyly at Donna, then turned his attention to Mrs. Wilcox. "Sister Betty, Donna texted me as soon as she could to let me know that Brother Ryan was here. How are you doing?"

"Tolerable, I guess," she said, "Miss Marcus called me from the store, told me what happened. I was telling Miss Ramon here that I'd been after Ryan for years to get his act together." She sighed, adding, "I've noticed you're looking better, Brother James. Whatever you're doing, keep it up, you don't want to land in the ER like my husband did."

He blushed lightly, shifting in his seat. "Well, Miss Ramon had a lot to do with it," he admitted, sneaking a glance at the nurse, "she's been teaching me how to make better choices about eating, and I'm walking instead of driving when I can. The only drawback is that I'm having to replace all of my suits, and that's hard on the budget."

"It's a good problem to have," Betty said.

As the three chatted, Dr. O'Connor came out and joined them. "I apologize for not meeting you myself," he said as he took a seat, "but I'm sure Donna filled you in quite well. Betty, you should be glad that Donna joined us, she is more up to date on some emergency procedures than I am, since she worked at a big emergency room hospital in Lubbock. In fact, she may have saved your husband's life."

"Really?" Betty turned to Donna, "how?"

"Let's just say that I've had a lot of experience with both heart attack and stroke victims while working at the hospital in Lubbock. Dr. O'Connor is exaggerating a mite about my contribution," Donna laughed.

"No, I'm not, but we won't argue here. I'd seen these procedures done, and attended classes, but it sure was good to have an experienced hand next to me." Dr. O'Connor shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. "Now, Mrs. Wilcox, I'll get you a detailed write up on discharge papers on what we do from here once Mr. Wilcox is ready to go. Now, I can give you some recommendations for who to consult about diet and exercise, or you can go to your family doctor."

"Oh, mercy, Dr. O'Connor, I don't think that Ryan would listen to Doc Williams, since they're big hunting buddies."

"I see," Dr. O'Connor said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I could make some recommendations, there's not many here, although we do have a nutritionist on staff at the hospital you could consult with."

"Or, I could make some suggestions of specialists in Lubbock," Donna suggested.

"Oh, would you, dear?" Betty asked, "that knucklehead husband of mine would take it more seriously if we had to go to the big city," she added thoughtfully. "I'd be delighted for you to make some suggestions."

"I'll talk with Dr. O'Connor later today, before he discharges Ryan," Donna promised. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of him."

"I know you will," Betty said. "I appreciate your time. When can I see him?"

"In just a bit," Dr. O'Connor said, "We'll keep him overnight for observation, then evaluate him for discharge tomorrow."

"Thank you," Betty said. "So as soon as he's ready, can I take Brother Wilson with me?"

"Certainly," Donna answered as she stood up. "I'll come back out to get you both when he's ready to be seen. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work. Betty, it was a pleasure to meet you." She shook hands with Betty, then nodded to James, who nodded back.

As soon as the nurse and doctor disappeared, Betty turned to James. "I'm glad you're here, Pastor Wilson," she said with a sigh, "I had an idea that Ryan might have a heart attack one of these days, but it's still hard when it actually does happen. I'm so glad to see that you're taking better care of yourself." She looked around, then added in a low voice, "So are you sweet on Donna?"

"Yes ma'am," he said, struggling not to grin too big, "I am. She's a delight to be around, so smart, so sweet, always laughing. Like I said, she's teaching me to make better choices, and I surely appreciate it."

"She kin to anyone hereabouts?"

"Why, yes, she's the niece of Leticia and Juan Ramon. They own the goat farm on the edge of town," he answered, "she had been working at the hospital that Pastor Matthews went to when he had his stroke, and she had already decided to move here to look after her aunt and uncle, since none of her cousins stayed in Wheatley."

"I see." Mrs. Wilcox thought for a few seconds, then said, "I know the Ramons, they usually have a booth at the farmer's market on Saturday mornings, and I've been buying vegetables from them for years." She paused, thinking how to phrase it delicately. "Brother James, you do realize that they are Mexican and Catholic? You might consider that before you get too serious with this young lady."

James sighed, but answered firmly, "I do know that, Sister Betty, but if God has called our hearts together, then who am I to question Him? It's early to think of it, but when the time is right, I will ask for her hand in marriage. I don't care that what she is, she's wonderful, and I love her."

Betty patted his arm. "Just as long as you know what you're up against. Prejudice dies hard in Wheatley, you know, and so does the old way of doing things."

"I know, Sister, but the Holy Spirit is leading me to open up our town, to move us past our limited ways of seeing," James answered fervently. "Who am I to question what God has lead me to do?"

Before she could reply, the nurse in question returned. "Betty, James, if you'll follow me now," she said, "I'll take you to see Ryan. You can only stay fifteen minutes, but you'll be able to see him again in a few hours."

"Thank you, dear," Betty said, "I do appreciate it."

"My pleasure," Donna said, motioning for them to follow her.

Amanda parked her truck in the back of Sandy's house, heart in a whirl of conflicting emotions. She was excited about her promotion and move, but would desperately miss Sandy. She had spoken to her old roommate, Robin, who said she could move into her apartment in Dallas.

She sat for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts, trying to decide exactly what to say. Life has changed so fast, I hardly know what to do or say. Finally, she gathered her purse and walked to the back door, making sure she locked her truck first. Amanda knocked gently at the back door, hoping that Sandy would answer, and afraid she wouldn't.

The curtains twitched, then the door opened. "Amanda, this is a surprise," Sandy said, opening the door wider. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable.

"Thank you," Amanda said, going through the door. She walked through the kitchen into the living room, plopping nervously on the couch. She waited for Sandy to sit before asking, "So how did the store meeting go?"

"You didn't hear?"

"No, I was not scheduled to work the last two days," Amanda reminded her.

"Guess I screwed up and forgot to tell you that you should be there. I announced that you are leaving, and that I was contacted by the district manager to work in Amarillo. Then Ryan Wilcox managed to steal my thunder by having a heart attack right there in the store. Ambulance and everything, quite a show. I talked to Betty Wilcox this morning, Ryan is resting comfortably, and will be going to Lubbock for follow up visits to a cardiologist and nutritionist. So he stole my thunder."

"So Ryan had a heart attack? Will he lose his job?"

"Nope, can't do that, but he's on medical leave for at least a month. By that time, it will be Dwayne's headache."

Amanda picked up her favorite throw pillow, playing with the tassels. "Oh, I guess so. Well." She looked at the pillow, then up at Sandy, blurting out, "What will happen to us, Sandy? I mean, I'm moving to Dallas and will live with Robin, you're going to Amarillo, that's way too far apart to be together. And what do I tell Mom and Dad? They're on another vacation, and apparently have their phones turned off. They don't know yet that I'm moving."

Sandy looked at the younger woman, taking pity on her. She stood up, holding out her hand, waiting for Amanda to take it, then led her into the bedroom. She propped up some pillows and settled them down, taking Amanda into her arms, settling her against her chest. "Amanda, although I think I'm falling in love with you, we can't be together. We need to be apart for a while, see if this is real or if you are testing the waters, so to speak. So when I got a call, asking me if you were ready to move to a larger store, I gave you a glowing recommendation."

"Wait, you recommended me? You deliberately tried to get rid of me?" Amanda asked, sitting up abruptly.

"Honey, it's for the best, really. Sooner or later, someone in district would figure out that we were a couple. If we were lower down the chain, and worked in separate departments, we could date, but not in management, and certainly not when I am technically supervising you."

"In other words, you took it upon yourself to make decisions for me," Amanda said, exasperated. "Look, part of the reason I broke up with James was that he tried to make decisions for me. The church tried to make decisions for me. When do I get to make decisions for me?"

"Amanda-"

"No, you don't get to make any more decisions for me, Sandy. I'm sorry, but I thought we were in love, in a relationship. I wanted to date a few more years, then think about marriage, but no, you had to start deciding what you thought was best without consulting me. How do I know that you didn't make the call to district, offering me up as a sacrifice, so you would be able to break it off with me? My God, Sandy, I thought I'd work in Dallas a few years, get some experience, then we could find a way to be together again." Amanda jumped up, furious. "Just leave me alone, Cassandra Marcus!"

"Wait a minute!" Sandy said, running after her. She caught her before she reached the back door, trying to wrap her arms around the younger woman. "Hey, this hurts me too, but I can't see any way out of it."

Amanda turned, glaring at the older woman. "Oh, I'd say you managed to find a way out, all right. Damn you!" She yanked the door knob, impeded by the lock. "I can't even leave right!" Amanda growled, banging her head lightly on the door frame.

Sandy pulled Amanda into her arms, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry, I truly am, but I thought I was doing the best for us both," she said in a low, urgent voice. "I don't want to be apart from you, but I didn't want you to have to give up a career for me. Yes, I totally screwed up, will you forgive me?" She stepped back, catching Amanada's chin, tilting her head up. "I do love you, Amanda."

Amanda stood, torn between storming out and never seeing Sandy again and taking her to bed, to make love with her one more time. She looked into Sandy's gray-green eyes, seeing the hurt and pain in them. Her shoulders sagged; she leaned against Sandy's shoulder, exhausted. "I love you, Sandy," she said raggedly, "I do. Take me to bed."

Sandy didn't say anything, she simply reached for Amanada's hand, leading her back to the bedroom for one more time together.

Robin was thrilled to have Amanda move in, just surprised that it happened so quickly. "Did you even tell anyone goodbye?" she asked as she set the last of the moving boxes down.

"Well, I did finally get ahold of my parents," Amanda said as she flopped down on the couch. "And I send my brother and his wife a card. I did go by and see James."

"How did that go?"

"He was stunned. I guess he was counting on my being around longer, but he's got plenty to keep him occupied."

Robin sat on the other end of the couch. "Such as?"

"I forgot, you've been here for all the doings." Amanda brought her friend up to date on the happenings in the store, the church, and her quasi-break up with Sandy. "Suppose Sandy finds someone else in Amarillo and forgets me?" she asked.

Robin countered, "Or suppose you find someone in Dallas? It's a big city, Amanda, and there's lots of people here."

"How do I meet someone? It was easy in Wheatley, until I decided not to marry James."

Robin chuckled. "You'll find someone, I promise. What else? Is Jimmy-I mean, James making any headway with the changes?"

Amanda nodded, answering, "He is, to some degree. The hilarious thing is that some of the older folks stormed off in a huff, but I don't think any of them have found another church that is as conservative." Amanda ran fingers through her short hair. "So, I guess I should start unpacking."

"I guess so," Robin agreed. "Let me help you."

"I'd appreciate it.

Dwayne Griffin had moved into Sandy's old office after she left for Amarillo. He grinned as he hung up his diploma from Oklahoma State University on one wall, and set his football trophies on the shelves behind his desk. The smaller the town, the more important to display his football bona fides. His wife, Lynnette, was settling in at school, apparently only the second ESL teacher in Wheatley history. He grinned at he set their wedding picture next to his trophies, still delighted that he had caught the valedictorian of their high school. And first in her class at OSU. And the best damn woman ever.

"Hi Dwayne, mind if I pop in for a moment?" Carla asked.

"Come on in," he said as the HR supervisor entered. "What's on your mind, Carla?"

"Not much," she said, plopping down in one of the chairs. "How are you and Lynnette settling in?"

"Doing well, thanks for asking," Dwayne answered, "but I suspect you didn't come in just to ask after our welfare."

"No, I didn't. I really came in to talk about Ryan Wilcox."

Dwayne grew serious, asking, "What about Mr. Wilcox?"

"Well, this will shock you, it sure shocked me. He called a few minutes ago and asked when he could come back to work."

Dwayne's eyebrows shot up. "He asked when he could come back to work? Sure you are joking!"

Carla smiled. "Nope, I am not joking, Dwayne, he actually called to find out what he needed to do come back from his medical leave. He said that his doctor is releasing him, and that he's, and I quote, 'Ready and eager to return to work,' unquote."

Dwayne sat back in his chair. "Well, well. And what did you tell him?"

"That I'd send the forms over for him to fill out," Carla answered with a grin. "I've noticed that since Ryan has been out on leave, we haven't had as many complaints about hours, overtime, or 'this is the way Mr. Collins did things' either."

"Good to hear." Dwayne rubbed his face tiredly, then asked, "By the way, any recommendations for my second-in-command? Since both Sandy and Kent left, I've barely had time to think. I wasn't planning on being a store manager quick so fast."

Carla saw back in her chair, thinking for bit before offering, "You know, Rob Anderson in flooring has been catching fire lately. He has been with the store for quite a while, and he's been one of the ones who started taking advantage of the Jenkins U courses early on. Sandy gave him high marks for being one of the first to get his department in line with the Jenkins way. He's rarely absent, takes his responsibilities seriously, and is a hometown guy to boot."

"Sounds good, I'll approach him about the position. How long have you been here, Carla?"

"Nearly 31 years, Dwayne. I worked under Mr. Hardin for the first few years, then he retired and I took over as HR manager. I'll be honest, I wasn't too keen on all the changes when Jenkins first took over, but it has made my job ultimately easier to have standard policies and protocols. Why do you ask?"

Dwayne shrugged. "Curiosity, mostly. What about Becky Brown? Think she's happy being inventory clerk, or should I promote her and look at hiring someone else as clerk?"

"Good question." Carla absently tapped her fingers on the chair arm as she thought. "I'd say talk to her about it, wouldn't hurt. I picked her from the applications for Amanda to interview, I thought she would work out the best. Good experience in other major home improvement chains. I'd be tempted to say interview her for the assistant store manager position, but it would probably still be better to have a hometown boy for now. Political, I know, but it is still a small town."

"Yeah, having an African-American store manager is hard enough on them," Dwayne said. "Now, back to Ryan Wilcox, let's get him those forms before he changes his mind."

"Will do, Boss!" Carla grinned as she stood up. "Anything else?"

"Nope, thanks." Dwayne watched Carla leave, then turned back to his reports. Paperwork, he thought, always paperwork to do.

Amanda walked in the door of her shared apartment, sifting through the mail. "Hey, Robin, you here?" she called out, "mail's here."

"I'm in my room, did I get anything?"

Amanda dumped her bag under the entry table and tossed her keys in the bowl before going to Robin's bedroom. "Some catalogs, what looks like junk mail, nothing exciting." She dropped Robin's mail on top of the desk. "Whoa, I didn't expect this!"

"What?" Robin asked as she saved her work and turned around in her chair. "What didn't you expect, Amanda?"

"It's a wedding invitation," she answered as she sat on Robin's bed. She opened it, pulling out the contents. "I don't believe it, Jimmy-I mean, James, is going to marry Donna Ramon! The wedding will be held at the church next month. I can't believe it, James getting married! I know my parents said that James and Donna had been dating, but I had no idea it was this serious."

Robin chuckled at Amanda's stunned expression. "What, did you expect Wheatley to stop after you moved away? I'm halfway through dental school, and you've lived here for nearly two years. I mean, you've grown and changed, so why should't James move on?"

"Robin, you're right, I guess it was just a shock. My parents said James has really turned the church around, and that Donna is now the head nurse in the emergency room at the hospital. I just never thought that my old church was ready to accept their pastor marrying a Latina."

"Progress happens, Amanda. Are you going to go? to the wedding?"

"I don't know, just having started my new job and all."

"The wedding is on a Saturday evening, and you do have weekends off, you know. It would take about five, six hours at the most to drive back. I'd even be happy to go with you, keep you company."

Amanda looked at the invitation again, trying to decide. "It's not like I need to get a hotel room, I can stay with Mom and Dad. I'm just not sure I'm ready for this."

Robin moved over to the bed, patting Amanda's leg. "You mean, so soon after you and Holly broke up?"

"Well, yeah, and I haven't been home since I left. Mom and Dad have been here, but I haven't been back, and I'm not sure I'm ready. Besides, I only dated Holly for a few months."

"She wasn't right for you either," Robin said. "So does it bother you that James really did move on, or does it bother you to go back and not see Sandy?"

Amanda leaned against Robin's shoulder, muttering, "Quit being so perceptive."

Robin wrapped an arm around Amanda's shoulders and hugged her. "Hey, best friends are supposed to be perceptive. At least you've had time to date, I've been too busy with school and work to date. Hey, maybe I should come home as your date, that would blow them all away!"

Amanda laughed and turned to face Robin. "Yeah, like anyone would believe that! You're too straight, girlfriend, but I appreciate the offer." She stood up, stretching. "It's been a long day, so I think I'll rest for a few minutes before supper."

"Okay, I guess it's my turn to fix supper tonight anyway," Robin said.

Amanda went to her bedroom and dropped the invitation on her desk before flopping down on her bed. She stared at the ceiling while thinking about the past few years. James had taken over Holy Redeemer, she and Sandy had started dating, her parents were trotting around the globe, Robin was on her way to being a dentist. Amanda picked up her phone, contemplating (for the hundredth time) deleting Holly's contact information. They had met through friends, had dated for several months, but Robin was right, they weren't meant to be. Holly loved camping, and Amanda tolerated it. Holly loved to go to bars and drink all night, Amanda sipped wine or cocktails to be social. Holly wanted to go to bed on the third date, Amanda was reluctant to jump into sex that soon.

And Holly just isn't Sandy, a little voice insisted.

Amanda steeled herself and deleted Holly's contact information. There, that's done, she thought. Holly Lund, gone. She scrolled aimlessly through her contact list, looking for other entries to delete.

And stopped at Sandy's. Cassandra "Sandy" Marcus, she read. Why can't I delete her number and email? Why do I still even think about her? Chances are I'll never see her again, I lost contact as soon as she moved to Amarillo. I don't know if she even still works for Jenkins, after I left, there was no way to find out. Oh well.

But she still didn't delete the entry.

It had been a bit of a struggle for Donna and James, but they were sure that their love was enough. Donna's family was concerned about her marrying a white man, and a non-Catholic at that. James' family and family was concerned about him marrying a Latina from a Catholic background.

The other issue was the congregation of Holy Redeemer.

Two weeks before the wedding, the Board of Elders called a meeting of the entire congregation to discuss Brother James Wilson and his choice of wife. Louise Hibbitts dutifully contacted as many members as she could and set up the meeting right after the 11:00 church service. On the appointed date, the church was full, almost overflowing, as present and some past members squeezed into the pews, anxious to share their opinions or hear what others thought.

James stood in front of the congregation, knowing that opinions were sharply divided for and against his upcoming wedding to his beloved Donna. It didn't matter to him, he knew in his heart that she was the right woman for him. He went through the motions of the service, hardly remembering any of it, wanting to get to the meeting afterward.

The meeting finally started. Steve Lang, the chairman of the Board of Elders, stood up first, calling the meeting to order. "Brothers and sisters," he started, "ordinarily we would not be discussing the pastor's personal life, but this affects us all. To bluntly address the elephant in the room, do we have any right to tell Brother Wilson who he should or should not marry?"

A loud buzz of overlapping conversations roared through the sanctuary until Brother Lang used his piercing whistle to quiet everyone down. "You'll all have your say. As for me, I've met with both of these find young people. Miss Ramon is a wonderful woman, she moved back to Wheatley to take care of her aunt and uncle, Leticia and Juan Ramon. Her own parents passed on a number of years ago." He looked at the people in the congregation, adding, "I have spoken with Miss Ramon several times, and she is willing to join our congregation, no questions asked. She and Brother James truly love each other, and I believe that we are all being silly and bigoted if we stand in their way of getting married."

After a flurry of shouts died down, Steve asked who wanted to speak. Before anyone else could rush up, Ryan Wilcox got up and moved forcefully to the pulpit. Steve Lang stepped aside so Ryan could address the gathering. "Brothers and sisters in Christ," Ryan started, "you know me. You know I ran my own plumbing business before going to work for Collins Hardware, which became Jenkins Home Improvement Store. You know that initially I was against any type of change, but let me tell you, you are being idiots if you stand in their way."

A murmur started up as Ryan waved his arms for silence. "Yes, I'm calling those of you who are opposed idiots. Yes, I was an idiot for a long time, I hated the idea that Albert Collins sold his store, I hated changing my work hours, I hated the idea that Brother James here was dating a woman outside his faith. But let me tell you, I am a changed man. I had a heart attack, and if Donna Ramon had not been in that emergency room, I would have died. Yes, we had a fine doctor, but this young lady had been in Lubbock, learning all the new ways of treating heart attacks. Dr. O'Connor was man enough to listen to her, and I lived. I realized after that I had to change, and God had been hitting me in the head long enough."

"Now friends, I'm not a preacher, I'm just an old country boy. But let me tell you this, if you are whining because our church has changed, then either change your tune or get the hell out of the way. Yes, some have left because Brother James is calling us to bear witness in a different way. I say it is better. Our young people who had been leaving the church in droves are coming back. We even have some of the drillers from Butler attending now. We are growing, and that is good, my friends. If you are going to be stupid enough to stand in Brother James and Sister Donna's way to marriage, then I invite you to leave now. Or, admit that you are a damned fool and ugly bigot because she has brown skin and comes from a different background." He glared at some of the elders, then sat down.

Before anyone else could stand up, Donna Ramon came up to the pulpit. She smiled at everyone, slight dimples showing in her cheeks. "Good afternoon, good people," she said in her soothing contralto voice. "I'd like to thank Brother Ryan for his testimonial in my behalf." She looked around, making eye contact with all of the elders in turn. "I'm sure you are thinking how dare a woman come up to speak to you. Well, one thing you will find out is that I do speak my mind, no matter if I should or should not."

Donna paused, pulling out a stethoscope. "This is my stethoscope. My parents had already died in a wreck on I-27 when I was in high school, so my father's older brother, Juan Ramon, took me in without any questions. Aunt Leticia and Uncle Juan had already seen their children grow and leave home, but took me in without a question. So after I graduated with my Bachelor's of Science in Nursing, they bought this stethoscope for me, and had it engraved. It says, 'Listen to each heart', which was always my grandmother's saying. My grandmother, who was also named Donna, drilled in her children to always listen to what someone's heart was saying, not just what their words were saying."

She looked over at James, smiling, then back to the congregation. "I met James when he brought Sister Viola to see Brother Carl. He was nervous, upset, and stunned that his mentor and beloved pastor was near death. Others may have thought he was out of his depth, trying to take over before he was ready, but I was already listening to his heart, and listening to my own. When the chance came to move here, I jumped at it, partly because I could come take care of my beloved aunt and uncle, and partly because I felt that James was the man I should marry."

The sanctuary was quiet; the congregation spellbound by her words. "So I ask you, will you listen to your heart? Or will you listen to your prejudices? Will you truly open your hearts, your minds, your doors to all?"

The quiet continued as Donna stepped down and Steve Lang came back to the pulpit. "Brothers and sisters, we have heard some wise words. I had originally decided that we would all listen, then the elders would make a decision. But I tell you now, I do not think it is our decision to make. If you have a problem with these wonderful young people getting married, I personally invite you to leave. If you'll remember, Brother James' first sermon as lead pastor was on changes on the horizon. I tell you now, those changes are not just on the horizon, they are here. Thanks be to God, amen."

Amanda and Robin made it to Wheatley in just under five and a half hours, stopping for lunch along the way. Amanda dropped Robin off at her parents' house, then went on to her own parents' house to change clothes before going to the wedding with her parents.

The wedding was beautiful, a blending of traditions. Rev. Samuel Edgar and Father Dillon Gall performed the ceremony. Rev. Edgar had gone to seminary with James, and Father Gall was the local priest. The sanctuary was full with friends and family from both sides, and Amanda and her parents barely squeezed in one of the back rows on the groom's side.

At the end of the wedding, the two ministers announced in unison, "May we introduce the newly married couple, James and Donna Wilson. Thanks be to God."

As they drove to the country club for the reception, Amanda commented, "James has never looked happier, or thinner."

"He has done well, you'd be proud of him," Charlotte commented. "He has been a changed man since Donna came in his life. He has been forceful in leading big changes at Holy Redeemer. Did you notice the young women with short hair and pants?"

"Yes. He's also lost quite a bit of weight. And Donna is drop dead gorgeous," Amanda agreed.

Albert spoke up. "We had just about decided to leave the church after you moved to Dallas, but we decided to stay. James has come into his own, and didn't back down when some of the elders pushed back on his changes. Imagine the audacity of opening our great hall for after school programs, for helping the poor, for providing a place for flu shots, and for adding services when some of the working class could make them!" He chuckled, and added, "You should have seen Ryan Wilcox a few weeks ago. Some of the elders decided we needed a meeting to discuss the upcoming nuptials, and Ryan blasted them all. He's quite a changed man, and he says he owes it to Donna Ramon being in that emergency room when he had his heart attack."

"Ryan Wilcox?"

"Oh, yes. You knew that Dwayne Griffin made Ryan his assistant store manager, right? Well, since then, Ryan has gone from being lazy to driven, and he's become quite a good manager. I frankly hired him for his plumbing knowledge, and regretted it for a while because he wasn't really the best employee. But he's changed."

"Wow. I thought he'd never change, Sandy had so much trouble with him." She broke off as her mother pulled into the parking lot. "I guess I should have listened more during our weekly calls."

"I knew it, you sounded so distracted at times," Charlotte gently teased her. "We're here."

The three walked into the country club, and immediately separated to greet different friends. Amanda tried to get into the receiving line several times before succeeding, but kept getting sidetracked by people wanting to catch up. She glossed over quite a bit, hinting that her current position left no time for dating or play. She finally made her way into the line, feeling a little nervous. What would she say to James after all this time?

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Jones." James turned from the older woman to the next in line, stunned to see his old friend and former fiancé, Amanda Collins. "Amanda, what a delight to see you," he said with a smile.

"It's good to see you too, James," Amanda replied. She wavered a moment, then reached out to hug him. For a few seconds, she was taken back to middle school, when some girls had teased her about something, and Jimmy stood up and asked them to back off, staying with her the rest of the day, offering comfort with his presence. She pulled back, looking at him with new eyes. His hair was still thick and black, carefully barbered and combed, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Now introduce me to your lovely wife."

"Gladly. Donna, this is my dear friend Amada Collins. Amanda, this is Donna Ramon. I mean, Wilson."

Donna turned, a wide smile crossing her dark features as she took Amanda's hands in hers, squeezing lightly. "Amanda, so lovely to finally meet you. James has said so many wonderful things about you. We do thank you for coming, how was your trip from Dallas? Did you fly or drive?"

Amanda relaxed, answering, "We drove. My best friend, Robin Miller, and I drove here. Robin's parents live here too, we all grew up together. I'm very happy to meet you."

"Well, I'm very happy you made it. How long are you here for? I'd love to chat longer, but there's still a bit of a line behind you."

"Donna, we're leaving in the morning, we both have to be at work early Monday morning."

"Too bad," James said, "but maybe the next time you visit your parents, we can all get together."

"Yes, I agree," Amanda said. "I hope you have a very happy life together." Donna smiled wider and hugged Amanda, whispering in her ear, "I hope you find the right woman."

Amanda was a bit stunned at Donna's comment, but simply hugged Donna tighter, then hugged James again before making her way to the refreshments table. Did James tell her something? Or is it written on my face? she wondered. She went down the line, adding bits of this and that to her plate before stopping at the drinks table. "Coffee, tea, punch, coke, wine, or beer?" the woman behind the table asked.

"Um, white wine, please," Amanda said, surprised. Alcohol at a reception for James? Maybe it would calm her nerves a little.

Later that night, Amanda sat in the living room with her parents, feeling almost like a kid again. She claimed her favorite chair, the old leather club chair, wrapped up in a light blanket, with her feet hanging off one arm. Her parents were on the couch, her dad's arm around her mother's shoulders. Decaf coffee all around, the stereo playing classical music softly in the background. Albert and Charlotte talking about their latest trip, this one to Australia and New Zealand. "It was so much fun, but the trip back was so long," Albert said. "One of these days, you'll be able to take trips like this."

"Maybe," Amanda said. "So, how is my brother and his wife?"

Charlotte answered, "Henry and Darlene are doing great, in fact, you will be an aunt in six months."

"I can't imagine Henry as a father," Amada mused, "he never seemed to be interested in children."

The conversation lulled for a moment as the three sipped their coffee, each lost in their own thoughts. Amanda wished briefly that Robin was here, she was great at socializing. Albert cleared his throat and leaned forward to set his coffee mug on the low table. "So, how is work? How's the new job?"

Amanda relaxed a bit as she set her own mug down. "It's fine, Dad. I lucked into it, one of the suppliers I worked with at Jenkins had an opening in their inventory control department and I applied for it. Salary increase, Monday-Friday 8-5, good people to work with. The only drawback was that I had to go out and buy new clothes. I've become so accustomed to wearing jeans or khakis that it actually felt strange to wear dress slacks and dressy tops. Luckily they don't require heels, I've gotten used to loafers and flats."

"So, anyone special in your life?" her dad asked casually.

"No, not right now," she hedged. She had never really discussed what had happened with Sandy, and she never was sure how her parents would react if she said she dated women instead of men. She suspected they knew, but it was different to actual say the words, I'm gay. I date women. She added, "Dallas is a big city, and it's harder to get to know people. I've gone to a few work related parties, hung up some with Robin's classmates. Did I tell you that I'm taking classes online?"

"No, that's wonderful," Albert said, "taking classes for a degree, or just for fun?"

"For a degree. I'm working toward a BBA in inventory management," she answered. "It will take a while, since I'm only able to get in two classes a semester, but it's fun."

"I see," her dad replied. "So, no one after Sandy? You two did break up, didn't you?"

Amanda felt flustered, her dad asking that so casually. "Um, let's just say it ended when I moved and she moved. I haven't heard from her since I left Wheatley. How did you know?"

Albert smiled and answered, "Your mother is perceptive, she told me that you and Sandy were dating. Or starting to. Honey, we don't care who you date, as long as they are good to you."

"Oh." Amanda picked up her mug, absently draining the rest of the coffee as she processed what her parents were telling her. "Well, since you asked, I did date a woman named Holly recently, but we broke up. We didn't have as much in common as I'd like. I also dated a classmate of Robin's for a few months, but we agreed we were better as friends than dating. Honestly, I want to meet someone who I can marry, so I can have what y'all have," she finished in a rush of words.

Charlotte laughed, saying, "We've had our ups and downs over the years, but thank you for that compliment. We just want you to be happy."

"Yeah, I want me to be happy too," Amanda said. She suddenly yawned, blinking as her eyes watered. "Gosh, it's getting a bit late, and Robin and I need to be on the road early. Mind if I turn in?"

"Of course not, sweetheart," Charlotte answered. Amanda got up and hugged each parent in turn, then went up to her old bedroom. She intended to text Robin, but fell asleep as soon as she crawled under the covers.

Ray and Caroline Marcus were surprised when Sandy came to Dallas to visit. Sandy had always called randomly, but rarely got to come home due to her crazy schedule. "What brings you home, Sandy?" her father asked as they sat in the breakfast nook.

"Oh, nothing special," she answered, "I had to take some vacation time or lose it, so I decided to come visit. It's been a while since I've seen you guys in person."

"Right, I don't believe you," Caroline said. "You never were one to just drop in, so what's going on? Work okay?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Sandy said slowly, "I'm getting a little tired of 80 hour weeks. I'm over a large store in Omaha, and I don't feel like I fit in. But that's neither here nor there, how's the business going? Is Dan or Rick going to take over?"

Ray grimaced at the mention of their sons. "Both of your brothers are perfectly happy working for the business, but neither has the slightest interest in taking over. Your mother and I would like to retire, but unless we can find someone to run the business, I may have to sell it."

"Really?" Sandy looked at her parents, trying to remember how old they were. Mid-60's? She was the baby of the family. maybe closer to 70? "So how is business these days?"

"Pretty steady. We have a mix of residential and small business clients, plus some contracts for wiring new houses," Ray answered, "and your brother Rick has a buddy in the landscaping business, so we've branched out into landscape lighting and Christmas lighting. Nothing exciting, but it pays the bills."

"How many employees do you have now?" Sandy asked.

They discussed the business for a while, with Caroline finally saying, "Let's not beat around the bush. Your father said not to ask, but I will. Do you have any interest in coming home and taking over? Managing an electrical business is different than managing a store, but I'm sure you can do it."

Sandy sat back, dazed at her mother's question. Do I want to take over the family business? It sounds like there is room for expansion. Would Rick and Dan be okay answering to their little sister? Of course, they left home when I was still in junior high, so I don't know how this would work. I have the skills, and I'm tired of moving every few years. And Cory is right, I need to settle down. She and Michelle are so happy, and I want that. She forced herself to stop woolgathering and said, "Let me think about it, then let's talk about how this would work."

Ray and Caroline exchanged glances, and Caroline said, "Ray, I told you we should ask her. I don't want to see our business to some stranger. You'll need to call Katrina in the morning."

"Katrina?"

"Our lawyer. She'll draw up the necessary paperwork to turn over the reins to you. We'll file incorporation papers so it won't be a sole proprietorship any longer, we're getting older, and I don't want you to be burdened with taxes," her mother explained crisply.

"Oh. Wow. Just like that," Sandy mused.

Ray signed with relief. "Thanks, Sandy. We'll call a family meeting tomorrow to tell your brothers."

What have I gotten myself into? Sandy wondered.

Sandy couldn't believe it, just like that, she was the CEO of Marcus Electrical Services, Inc. She gave notice with Jenkins and moved to Dallas, TX. In a few short weeks, she had found a temporary place to live, renting a house from one of her parents' friends. Weeks turned into months as she took over, learning the electrical business anew. Her brothers were relieved to have her take over, since neither had any desire to run the business. Thank God the office staff and sales people were happy to make the transition, and she was relieved to find that the business was pretty well run. Nothing she had to change immediately.

Her social life consisted of visiting her family, surprised at how much her nieces and nephews had grown since she'd been home last. She was enjoying being an aunt, spending time spoiling the kids by taking them to the zoo, to movies, to fun places. She had spent one such Friday evening with them at a driving range. It had separate lanes to hit golf balls from, a great menu, and it was just plain fun. Sandy found that she still could drive the balls fairly far, and more accurately than her brothers. It was relaxing to just enjoy family for a few hours. Too bad she didn't have anyone to share it with.

"Well, kiddo, we're going to leave now," Dan said after the third game. "Dan Jr. has a soccer game tomorrow morning."

"Oh, too bad, you might have beat me next round," Sandy teased as she collected hugs from her family. "I think I'll stay a little longer, I still haven't finished my beer."

"Okay, be good, see you Monday," Dan said.

Sandy smiled and sat back down, picking up her beer. She was about to take a sip when she heard a familiar voice saying, "But Robin, I don't know much about golf." Sandy looked at the lane next to her, and felt her heart stop.

It was Amanda.

Sandy nearly fell off her stool in her shock. She dithered, should she go over? Should she say hi, or slip away? What would she say?

Robin looked over and saw Sandy, and started grinning. "Hey stranger, want to join us?" she called out. Amanda turned to see who Robin was talking to and dropped her menu in shock. It was Sandy.

The two women stared at each other as each tried to decide what to do. Robin finally walked over, took Sandy's arm, and led her over to the table. "Y'all catch up while I go add you to our lane," she said, leaving the two dumbstruck women to stare at each other.

Amanda regained her wits first, asking, "What brings you here, Sandy?"

"Um, family. My brother Dan and his family. Oh, what brings me to Dallas?" Sandy babbled. "I left Jenkins, took over Mom and Dad's business. So I'm here. What are you doing here? I mean, are you, um, I guess you and Robin are still friends."

"I live here. I mean, I still share an apartment with Robin, but I don't work for Jenkins any longer, I'm working for another company in inventory control. Monday through Friday, 8 to 5. It's nice, and I'm in school too." Amanda took a deep breath, and asked casually (she hoped), "So anyone special in your life?"

Sandy shook her head slowly. "Nope, you?"

"No," Amanda confessed, taking in Sandy's familiar gray-green eyes. How she missed Sandy! "I dated a few women, no one special."

Robin reappeared. "All set. Hey, Sandy, did you know that James Wilson got married a few months ago? We went back for the wedding, or, Amanda went to the wedding while I visited my family."

Sandy and Amanda started visibly relaxing, so Robin kept up a steady chatter about people in Wheatley, dental school, Amanda's new job. As she noticed them spending more time staring at each other than actually playing, she decided that they needed more time together. Robin suddenly smiled. "Hey, Amanda, I completely forgot that I have a clinic tomorrow. I hate to cancel our day at the arboretum. Sandy, are you available tomorrow? Tickets and parking already paid for, you can pick Amanda up in the morning."

"Uh, yeah, that sounds great, what do you say, Amanda?" Sandy asked, suddenly hopeful.

"It sounds fantastic," Amanda agreed. "Fantastic."

Time flew by. Sandy and Amanda started dating, this time as equals. Amanda met Sandy's family, and they went back to Wheatley to meet Amanda's family. They ran into James and Donna while in town, and head the news that James and Donna were expecting their first child.

Amanda got another promotion at work, and decided to celebrate with Sandy. Sandy invited her over to her house, and Amanda arrived in the early evening. "Hey honey, come on in," Sandy said after they exchanged kisses. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Smells great," Amanda said over her shoulder as she went to drop her overnight bag in Sandy's bedroom. She came back into the kitchen and slipped behind Sandy, wrapping her arms carefully around Sandy's waist. "What's cooking, besides you?"

Sandy laughed as she turned around, taking time for a thorough kiss before answering, "Broiled chicken, mixed vegetables, garlic toast," she answered. "It will be ready in about five minutes, do you mind setting the table?"

"Sure," Amanda said as she let her love go to get the plates and silverware. She set the table in the dining room, glad that Sandy lived alone. It was starting to feel like her second home, they had found the table and chairs at a garage sale and refinished them together one weekend. It felt good to do things together.

Dinner was served. Amanda and Sandy talked about Amanda's promotion and Sandy's letting her brothers try another idea for expanding the business. "I'm surprised, but they are going great guns, and business has tripled in the past few months," Sandy said. "So if you ever get tired of working for someone else, you can come work for us."

"Really? I'd have to think about that," Amanda said. "Say, let's get the dishes cleared and go out on the patio. Think it's finally cool enough to light the fire pit?"

"It should be. You know where the lighter is. I'll take care of the dishes and join you in a few minutes."

Amanda gave Sandy a thumbs up and went outside with the lighter. She took the cover off the fire pit and lit it, adjusting the gas to get the perfect flame height. She sat down on the bench, feeling in her pocket for the little box, smiling in anticipation. "Oh, good, you read my mind," she said as Sandy came out with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"I forgot to open it for dinner," Sandy confessed, "so I thought we could have it now. You're not going anywhere any time soon, right?"

Amanda accepted a glass and took a sip of the sweet red wine. "No, not planning to go anywhere soon," she confirmed. Sandy sat beside her, and they stared into the fire for a while, talking about this and that, sipping their wine.

They fell silent for a bit. "What's on your mind?" Sandy asked, setting her glass on the side table. "You have that excited look on your face, love."

Amanda set her glass on the other side table and reached in her pocket. "You know you always ask me if I'm staying every time I come over?" Sandy nodded. "Well, I'd like to answer your question with a question." She pulled out the small box and opened it, displaying a small ring with an opal set between two small diamonds. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me, Cassandra Marcus?"

Sandy stared at the beautiful ring for a moment, then at Amanda's dear face. She swallowed, unable to speak for a moment. She cleared her throat several times before she could answer, "Yes. Yes, absolutely yes. Oh, God, Amanda, yes, yes, yes!"

Amanda slid the ring on Sandy's finger, leaning over to kiss her fiancé. When they finally broke for air, Amanda said, "Oh, thank God, I was scared you'd say no."

Sandy sat back, reaching for the bottle. "This calls for another glass," she said, emptying the rest of the bottle into their glasses. "Amanda, you're sure? You really want to get married?"

Amanda drained her glass. "Yes. I am sure, my beloved. I was miserable without you, I feel complete now."

Sandy drained her glass as well, swallowing against a lump in her throat. "My beloved, I was also miserable without you," she whispered, unexpected tears tracking down her face. "I'm overwhelmed." She wiped her eyes, "I can't believe I'm crying. I've always heard of tears of joy, never expected to experience them."

Amanda smiled. "I'm sure I can make you cry out, too," she whispered. She stood up, holding out her hand. Sandy took her hand, following her beloved to bed.

More changes, good changes, were on the horizon.

The end.

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