Daron's Guitar Chronicles Volume 12

940 KEEP THE FAITH

KEEP THE FAITH

Claire, it turned out, did expect us all to go to church. You might think she'd be down on church after having married a preacher who then cheated on her and dropped her like a hot potato when he found out she was terminally ill...? But I had a feeling she'd want us to go, because waking people up at the crack of eight to demand they get dressed up was the sort of thing she'd do.

I was of course not really awake at that point, but as I made it to the kitchen I gathered that there was some argument going on about which church we were going to.

"It's a much larger church, and it's more traditional," Claire was saying.

Janine was trying to get the coffee going. "That's not the point."

"It's the only church in the area with stained glass windows like that. I mean, it's not St. Patrick's, but it's got that ornamental stonework on the outside."

"But, mother–"

"You're going to like it, I'm sure. It's much more like the church we used to go to than that place we went last week."

"But–"

"Nice big organ."

"Mother!"

"Oh, come now. You know I didn't mean it that way," Claire said in her I'm-scandalized voice. I realized Claire was holding in a laugh. She knew perfectly well she was yanking Janine's chain and Janine couldn't help reacting all sorts of ways.

Janine stepped back from the coffee machine as it began to brew. "Look, Claire, I get it. You want a... a big, beautiful church. But that's not the church where we're picking up Landon."

Claire pursed her lips. "Oh, come on, Jan. Just call Jake and tell him to meet us at Sacred Heart. Everything doesn't have to be a crisis."

Janine stared at the ceiling like it was way too early in the morning to be getting on her last nerve. "Why can't we just start at Sacred Heart next week instead of this week? If it's been there for a hundred years; it'll still be there in a week."

Remo arrived then with a box of donuts.

"You found a donut shop open on a Sunday morning?" Janine marveled as she set the box in the middle of the table and opened it. Nice looking selection.

"Had to ask around a bit but yeah," he said. He was in a Tennessee-appropriate version of his Sunday best, which meant his hair slick-combed, a button-down western shirt, creased jeans, and shined cowboy boots.

I figured I better head this off before it got worse. "I didn't really bring church clothes with me, you know."

"Daron!" Claire said sharply, though not half as sharply as I expected. She looked me up and down. I was in black jeans, a black turtleneck, and a red flannel shirt. (At least it was the one without holes in the sleeves?) "Is that what you planned to wear to my funeral?"

I nearly choked on the donut I was eating. "No one told me to pack for a funeral, either!"

"He looks fine, Claire," Remo said.

"Hush, you. I'm trying to make a good impression at a new congregation."

"All the more reason for us to wait until next week to check it out," Janine said. "Now, come on, the one thing we don't want to do is be late no matter where we're going."

It was cold that morning, around forty degrees, so I put a dark knit winter cap on my head to hide my red streaks and that seemed to satisfy Janine even though I'd have to take it off during the service, and I swapped my red flannel shirt for my black wool winter coat, which Claire deemed acceptable.