A Way to His Heart

    Lawrence hadn’t read today’s sermon to me as he usually did so I was concentrating on his words. It took three jabs to the ribs from Eloise’s elbow before I turned to see what she wanted.
    I hoped my whispered “What?” sounded as annoyed as I felt.
    “Look at Yvonne’s hair, Jacqui. She’s dyed it black.”
    I looked at the back of Yvonne’s head. She was seated two pews in front of Eloise and me. Her hair was definitely black which was nowhere near her natural dark blond. I leaned closer to Eloise. “It looks like she’s curled it, too,” I whispered.
    Eloise asked “Wonder why she did that?” while pointedly looking at my black curly hair.
    Mrs. Jamerson, in the pew in front of us and a little to our left, turned around and glared at us. I shook my head at Eloise and she smiled sweetly at Mrs. Jamerson, who glared even harder at us before turning back toward the pulpit.

    I knew why Yvonne had dyed and curled her hair. A month or two after Bro. Lawrence Stratten began preaching at our church, he and I began dating. Yvonne had set her sights on him from his first sermon; if he liked black and curly hair on her competition, she was going to level the playing field.
    Hopefully Yvonne didn’t know that Lawrence usually read his sermons to me before Sunday morning. Except for this one, which was on envy.
 
    After the services, Eloise and I took our time leaving the church. We were going to a restaurant in a nearby town to sample their holiday treats. We had invited Lawrence to go with us; he declined our invitation and told us to have a good time and bring back samples of the treats.
    As we neared the vestibule doors, I saw Yvonne was still there, smiling coquettishly at Lawrence and fluffing her hair. I couldn’t imagine why she was flirting at church, providing fuel for the gossips in the congregation.
    Yvonne didn’t seem inclined to move away from Lawrence. Eloise took charge of that by moving in front of me, stepping squarely between Lawrence and Yvonne.
    “Bro. Stratten, I enjoyed your sermon today. I don’t think I have ever heard the pitfalls of envy described so well.”
    “Um, thank you,” Lawrence replied.
    I could tell he was surprised. Eloise usually said nothing about a sermon other than “Nice service” and then wished him a nice day. I never really thought much about it, just figured she was ready to get into jeans and a T-shirt instead of a dress.
    When Eloise moved to the side nearest Yvonne, blocking her access to Lawrence, I stepped over, shook his hand, told him I had enjoyed the sermon and wished him a nice afternoon. I could feel Yvonne’s glare, and politely said “Good morning” to her as Eloise and I turned and walked across the vestibule to the steps leading to the sidewalk.

    When we were seated in Eloise’s Escape, I asked, “What was the sermon comment for?”
    “I couldn’t stand the simpering she was doing. That was the first thing that came to mind,” she replied.
    “Okay,” I said. “I assume we’re going to your shop so you can change clothes.”
    “Yep!” she answered, started the vehicle, and headed for her florist.

    The restaurant’s holiday treats were better than advertised.  I purchased a variety box of cookies, candies and cupcakes to share with Lawrence. Eloise and I did some Christmas shopping and by the time we headed toward home, we were too late for Sunday evening services.
    “Is missing services okay with you?” Eloise asked when she noticed the time on the Escape’s dash clock.
    “Sure,” I replied. “I told Lawrence yesterday we might not make it back by then.”

    My cell phone rang just as Eloise was pulling into the church parking lot so I could get my car and drive home. It was Lawrence.
    “Hi,” I said.
    “Hello,” he said. “Are you still out of town?”
    “We just got back. We’re at the church.”
    “Wait for me,” he said and ended the call.
    I told Eloise and we wondered what that was about.

    Eloise waited with me and a few minutes later Lawrence arrived. He parked beside us, got out and walked to the passenger door. I put the window down and looked up at Lawrence. He looked upset.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked.
    “Yvonne,” he said.
    “Yvonne?”
    “Yes. I should have gone with you two.”
    “Why?”
    “She insisted on buying my lunch. I didn’t want to appear unappreciative on the church steps, so I agreed. Then she insisted on driving.” He paused. “I don’t know which was worse, her driving or her flirting. At least we went to Jordan’s Café so I didn’t have to be in the car with her very long.” He paused again. “While we were in there she made sure she spoke to everyone, and I do mean everyone, she knew. Some of them twice.”
    I heard Eloise snicker.
    “It’s not funny, Eloise,” Lawrence told her.
    “Oh, yes it is!” she replied. “You know why Yvonne did that as well as Jacqui and I do.”
    He looked befuddled.
    Eloise snickered again. “She’s after you, my dear man. She thinks if people see you and her out together, they’ll think you and Jacqui have broken up and you’re now dating her.”
    “Oh, no!” Lawrence gasped.
    “Oh, yes!” Eloise said and started laughing. “Jacqui is going to be getting phone calls about this!”
    That must have been the signal for calls to start, for our phones rang at the same time. I checked the caller’s number on my phone – Gayle Smith, one of the worst gossips in church. I glanced at Eloise. She said, “Jane Gorman.”
    We declined the calls.
    “What do I do?” Lawrence asked.
    “Nothing,” Eloise and I said at the same time. 
    “Eloise and I will deal with this,” I told him.
    “How?” he asked.
    “Ignore the gossip,” Eloise said. She looked at me. “You up for cooking a fine meal for our pastor one night this week?”
    “Sure. Thursday night good for you, Lawrence?”
    He nodded. I could tell he wasn’t sure what that would do. Apparently he hadn’t sampled any of Yvonne’s dishes at church get-togethers.

    Eloise and I said our good evenings to Lawrence and watched him get into his Buick and drive out of the parking lot. We looked at each other and started giggling, for we knew Yvonne’s culinary efforts left much to be desired; more than once we had discretely tasted then disposed of any dishes she brought to church functions. We didn’t think she could boil eggs properly, much less prepare anything complicated.

    “What are you going to fix?” Eloise asked.
    “I’ll do country,” I told her. “Pintos, cornbread, mixed greens, dressed eggs and Grandma’s relish on the side. That should suit Lawrence, and I’ll put a picture or two on Facebook. Think I should title it ‘The Way to a Man’s Heart’?”
    “Of course,” Eloise told me. “That would be the icing on the cake!”