Harvest of Love

Chapter 12

           I awake from a rough shaking of my shoulder, and to Clem saying, "Rise and Shine Porcupine!" He has a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Go away," I mumble as I grab my blanket and start to turn away from him. Suddenly, my blanket is jerked right off my bed.

"No can do, mister. Today is the Lord's day, and the day you keep your promise." In an instant, the events of last night come crashing back to mind. Rebecca. The story. AND church. I sit up and take a deep breath as I run my hand through my hair.

"Do I have time for a shower?" I ask resigned to my fate.

"Like I'd bring you without one! Hurry it up, though. I don't want to miss the sing'n." With that Clem turns and heads toward the kitchen. Well, I'd better get this over with, I think, as I drag myself out of the comfort of my bed and head toward the bathroom.

                I rode with Clem in his 1950 rusty blue Ford F1 with a flatbed that was used to haul equipment at the farm. We don't say much. I've never been much of a morning person. Clem seems content to let me be while whistling, 'Turn your eyes upon Jesus.' Which I find ironic being that this God of his is an unseen one. We pull up to a little white wooden church complete with a pointy steeple and two big double oak doors that are open wide. A man dressed in a suit and tie stands to one side, welcoming the line of people trying to file inside. A small wooden sign is posted by the door that reads in gold painted script: Chapel of the Vine. As I get out of the truck, I straighten and tuck in the same plaid dress shirt I wore when I first came to Thomas Tobacco Farm, but this time Clem doesn't give me grief over it. We get in line as well. People immediately turn to talk to Clem and inevitably ask who he brought with him. While I was introducing myself for at least the fifth time, I heard my name being called.

"Mason Harper! Well, I'll be. I guess you really aren't scared of anything!" I know the voice instantly. And just as quickly, I have two very different emotions warring inside me: excitement and dread. I turn in anticipation of what's to come, a smile plastered on my face.

"Hello, MaryBeth." But once I actually see her, my smile can't help but become genuine. Her dimpled grin is ear to ear, and her eyes are alight in amusement at the inside joke. A huff of laughter escapes my lips, and I look down at my feet for a second before glancing back into her eyes and saying, "So . . . this is your Dad's congregation, isn't it?"

"Now, Mason, a smart guy wouldn't let on that he didn't actually know he was attending the church of the girl he danced with all night last night. Instead, he lets her believe that he was so desperate to see her again, he would even attend her church on Sunday," she states with a dramatic sigh as she places a hand over her heart. She starts to giggle. "Don't look so stunned. I'm just glad to see you no matter what your reasons are for being here."

            Her words couldn't have been sharper, stabbing me right in the gut. Because even though she says it like a joke, I can see the flicker of hope in her eyes. And here I am, unknowingly forced to go to HER church, so I can be in a relationship with her best friend. I feel like the biggest jerk and hypocrite ever. At that moment, Clem clears his throat, and if possible, I feel even worse, realizing he has overheard everything MaryBeth said.

"MaryBeth, I didn't realize you knew Mason," Clem comments before giving me a pointed look.

"We, uh, met at the dance last night," I answer Clem.

"Met? We didn't just meet. We danced all night together. He's not the best line dancer in the world, but he made up for it in the slow dances," MaryBeth states with a wink.

"I bet," is all Clem says. Before, I can say anything to make the situation appear better than it sounds, we are being greeted by who can only be MaryBeth's dad. Introductions are made, and Clem announces with a none too soft slap on the back of my shoulder,"Mason here needs to get his life right, and I told him there's no better place to start than at church." Pastor McCleary smiles kindly at me before saying,