Romantic love story

Chapter Thirty-four: Falling Skies with a Chance of Hail

Rain slammed the garage roof as Terry measured the couch. Pastor Bill showed John some of the other furniture, but Terry did his best to block out their talk. He didn't want anything else here, and if these numbers were right, he couldn't even use this couch.

"It's too long." Terry let the tape measure scroll back, and all conversation stopped. "It'll jut into the bathroom doorway by a full six inches."

"What if you switch this one to the other side of the room?" John suggested.

Hands in his pockets, Pastor Bill made no comment. They had told him nothing about the first couch, or its use, but despite that, their pastor hadn't said a word when he'd glimpsed it in the moving truck. Terry had been right about him-- Bill was the soul of discretion.

The men were waiting on Terry to make a decision. The rain had gotten worse, and Terry dearly wanted to get this over before Three Mile Bay found out how he and Maddie would be sleeping.

Pressure aside, Terry needed to think clearly.

"Would you like to stay for lunch?" Pastor Bill asked. "If you need time--"

"It's kind of you, but Maddie's expecting us." Terry switched the couches in his mind and knew it wouldn't work. He'd needed one as short as the other, so it would clear the bedroom door.

In a perfect world, everything would fit perfectly, and there would be no need for adjustments. He decided to try the couch. Terry sat down, slanted a nervous glance at his pastor, then stretched out on the cushions.

"Comfortable?" Pastor Bill smiled.

"Not bad." Terry sat up while his mind kicked into overdrive. "Could we bring it back if it doesn't work out?"

"Sure." Bill nodded. "Marriages don't work that way, but this couch will."

"Why do I have a feeling you know what's going on?"

"I don't, but I can guess."

"It's for Maddie."

Pastor Bill nodded as though it confirmed his thoughts, and he stepped aside as John took the tape measure to make a few calculations, himself.

"I think it could make it." John looked it over and gave the armrest an encouraging slap. "The decision's up to you though."

"I'd like to take the couch."

"Then let's get this thing into the moving truck." John tossed the tape measure to Terry as thunder sounded in the distance. "What did Dad always say? Thunder is just God bowling with the angels."

"I remember that." Terry grinned as he pocketed the tape.

The garage door groaned as Pastor Bill opened it, but even he was chuckling. Overcast light spilled inside with the rain, and Terry and Bill hurried to cover the items nearest the door with plastic while John wrapped the couch to keep it from getting soaked. Then Terry lifted one side of the couch as John lifted the other, and while the two men negotiated the couch outside, Bill moved out of their way.

"Are you sure I can't help?"

"That's okay, we've got it." Terry blinked the rain from his eyes as they turned onto the loading ramp. Terry went first, moving backward with his arms full of couch while John steered. Rain got in Terry's eyes, Terry turned to look behind him-- just a quick look-- when his foot caught the edge of the ramp. Pain shot into his ankle, he opened his mouth to call out, but John was blinking too, and the couch kept coming. Terry clamped his mouth shut and pushed up the ramp.

The sound of rain on metal as it hit the roof of the truck's cargo area, made all talk impossible. Terry angled Pastor Bill's couch toward the empty space beside the first one, and John followed. The noise was deafening. Terry couldn't wait to block his ears, and he only pulled his hands away once they were back down the ramp and in the relative silence of the downpour.