sometimes stuck it to me, like I said earlier, she really was a sweet lady.
“Going to her house is a nice thing to do, but it’s not the most romantic thing there is.
You should do something that will really let her know how you feel about her.”
My mom suggested buying some perfume, and though I knew that Jamie would
probably be happy to receive it, it didn’t sound right to me. For one thing, since Hegbert
didn’t allow her to wear makeup—with the single exception being the Christmas play—I
was sure she couldn’t wear perfume. I told my mom as much, and that was when she’d
suggested taking her out to dinner.
“I don’t have any money left,” I said to her dejectedly. Though my family was
wealthy and gave me an allowance, they never gave me more if I ran through it too
quickly. “It builds responsibility,” my father said, explaining it once.
“What happened to your money in the bank?”
I sighed, and my mom sat in silence while I explained what I had done. When I
finished, a look of quiet satisfaction crossed her face, as if she, too, knew I was finally
growing up.
“Let me worry about that,” she said softly. “You just find out if she’d like to go and if
Reverend Sullivan will allow it. If she can, we’ll find a way to make it happen. I promise.”
The following day I went to the church. I knew that Hegbert would be in his office. I
hadn’t asked Jamie yet because I figured she would need his permission, and for some
reason I wanted to be the one who asked. I guess it had to do with the fact that Hegbert
hadn’t exactly been welcoming me with open arms when I visited. Whenever he’d see me
coming up the walkway—like Jamie, he had a sixth sense about it—he’d peek out the
curtains, then quickly pull his head back behind them, thinking that I hadn’t seen him.
When I knocked, it would take a long time for him to answer the door, as if he had to
come from the kitchen. He’d look at me for a long moment, then sigh deeply and shake his
head before finally saying hello.
His door was partially open, and I saw him sitting behind his desk, spectacles
propped on his nose. He was looking over some papers—they looked almost financial—
and I figured he was trying to figure out the church budget for the following year. Even
ministers had bills to pay.
I knocked at the door, and he looked up with interest, as if he expected another
member of the congregation, then furrowed his brow when he saw that it was me.
“Hello, Reverend Sullivan,” I said politely. “Do you have a moment?”
He looked even more tired than usual, and I assumed he wasn’t feeling well.
“Hello, Landon,” he said wearily.
I’d dressed sharply for the occasion, by the way, with a jacket and tie. “May I come
in?”
He nodded slightly, and I entered the office. He motioned for me to sit in the chair