No Sanctuary. Helen R. Myers

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No Sanctuary - Helen R. Myers MIRA

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asked.

      “Yes.” She wasn’t but she wouldn’t let him know.

      Glenn’s fiancée had matured, advancing from girlishly pretty to striking, her lush dark hair cut stylishly short and her makeup subtle, since her dramatic coloring didn’t require more. But it was her white suit that struck Bay strongest. It would be perfect for a quiet wedding, which left her wondering if Holly had chosen it to remind her that she wasn’t the only one who had something stolen from her.

      Reaching their front row seats turned out to be something of a relief after all.

      “Darling.” Madeleine reached out her hand and drew Bay down onto the plush theater seat on her left. “I’m so glad you could come. Doesn’t she look enchanting, Duncan? She could be your baby sister.”

      “As radiant as you look today, more like yours.”

      Madeleine laughed throatily as her son lowered his lanky length into the chair on her right and she patted his long thigh affectionately. She could have been the mother of a bride in her silvery-blue silk suit, positively glowing with happiness. At the same time, the cynic in Bay couldn’t help but note that framed by the royal-blue-and-white color scheme, the three of them created almost too perfect a photo opportunity. Almost on cue, the KWRD TV cameraman swept their way and lingered.

      “Oh, no.”

      Although she’d whispered the protest between stiff lips, Madeleine heard and leaned toward her. “Chin up and smile, darling. Think of something else, lunch for instance. Cook is preparing the most divine lobster salad.”

      Cook must not be in need of spiritual support or networking, Bay thought enviously. To Madeleine she replied, “Thank you, but I’m not sure I’ll have an appetite after this.”

      Duncan leaned forward and pointed behind him with his program. “If you need to leave in a hurry, that door to our right leads to the vestibule. Don’t try the fire exits, or you’ll trigger the alarms and then you will have more attention than you want.”

      “Oh, sweetheart, don’t encourage her.”

      Grinning at his mother’s protest, Duncan winked at Bay before sitting back. The choir stood and began singing. Thankfully, the cameras turned to them and Bay worked at getting her heart out of her throat and back where it belonged.

      “How’re y’all this blessed of all mornings?” Martin Davis said approaching the dais, once the choir finished. “I told my darling Odessa as we got in the car, no one could have gotten out of the wrong side of the bed on a day this fine. Moments later at the first traffic light, I stopped rather than drive through yellow, and the guy behind me gave me the finger.” After a pause for laughter, he continued, “It just goes to show you that everything can be perfect, you can obey every law, follow the rules…and somebody’s still gonna have that finger ready. Reminds me of what happened to the apostle Peter while…”

      For the next twenty minutes, Bay rode a strange sea of emotions as Pastor Davis navigated his way through the service with the energy of a decathlon athlete and intelligent wit of Johnny Carson. Blatant, however, was how for all of his country boy charm, ambition ran like a heady wine in this minister’s veins. Bay caught glimpses of his shrewd speculation as he studied his congregation gauging how firmly he had them in his control; nevertheless, she found him more tolerable than most evangelists on TV. If she was a neophyte attending with an open mind and heart and in need of familial attention, needy in general, she could see herself succumbing to Davis’s brand of, “Trust me and the Lord will bless you” manipulation. At least he didn’t reduce her to yawns. Where did he envision himself to be in five years? As grand as this place was, somehow she didn’t think thriving, but modest little Tyler, Texas, was the end of his visionary rainbow.

      “Well, now, I dare you to tell me that you weren’t inspired?” Madeleine said as they rose along with everyone else.

      Bay gazed around the huge auditorium. “These are such soothing cool colors to counterbalance the pastor’s passion, did you pick them out?”

      Duncan laughed and linked his mother’s arm through his. “Good for you, Bay. It’s so refreshing to meet someone who refuses to say anything she doesn’t mean. Mother, when I get you to the car, I’ll drive to the house with Bay, show her a back way so she’s not trapped in that infernal midday traffic.”

      After a brief unreadable stare for her son, Madeleine gave Bay a shrug. “So you’re right, it wasn’t his best sermon. Now we’ll have to listen to Odessa worrying all through lunch that he offended the little white-haired ladies in the congregation with that finger reference.”

      “See,” Duncan whispered conspiratorially to Bay, “it’s catching.”

      “Keep on,” Madeleine drawled. “I’m sitting Odessa next to you. Now let’s stop to say hello to Holly, I gather that’s why she’s lingering behind, since lately she’s one of the first out of here. She’ll be at lunch,” she explained to Bay. “I want to know how she’s liking being part of the TV production team. I hated encouraging Martin to move her out of the church office, but the other ladies confided that there were simply too many mistakes being made. Lyle and Granger will complete the table.”

      “Granger?”

      “Patterson. Publisher of the town’s new magazine. Tyler’s answer to D Magazine and Texas Monthly.” Duncan was no longer smiling. “Mother, is that smart? Bay is still getting acclimated and you dangle her in front of a shark.”

      Madeleine looked wounded. “How can you suggest that? Besides, I’ll be there to intercede if he does push her for an interview. Honestly, Duncan, it was his only open date for the next month and I have to get him to join our church before the Baptists grab hold of him. Holly,” she sang, “aren’t you looking absolutely divine. You remember Bay, of course.”

      “Who could forget?”

      “Hello, Holly. You are looking well.”

      The unsmiling woman didn’t return the compliment; in fact, except for a brief, hard stare, she ignored her. Her manner warmed several degrees as she focused on Duncan. “If you can spare the time, I’d like to talk to you after lunch.”

      “Sure.”

      Nodding, Holly retreated via a side exit. Watching her, Madeleine sighed.

      “I do hope I won’t have to have another talk with the girl. It troubles me that despite claiming to understand she was wrong about Bay, she behaved so coldly just now. I’ll have Lulu adjust the seating arrangements as soon as I get home and rely on you, Duncan, to make sure Holly doesn’t indulge in too much wine. Monica, Steve, how are you? Did the kids get settled in D.C. all right?”

      Amazing, Bay thought, as Madeleine moved on to another couple and another subject. How did she keep everything straight and remember everyone’s names? And there was a constant stream of Monicas and Steves, all of whom fell into either an awkward silence or artificial friendliness as Madeleine introduced them to her, until Bay simply held back to stay out of her line of vision.

      Once they finally reached the car, Duncan turned his mother over to Elvin, parked curbside, the engine idling in order for the air conditioner to cool the interior. In the last second, Madeleine grasped Bay’s wrist.

      “Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did back there. You must be bolder, darling. Look people straight in the eye

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