Communion (On My Knees Duet 3)

Now, I pull myself away, walking quietly down the hall and into our room. I buckle Eden into a swing we put at the foot of our bed, since she’s awake but not overly so. Then I find some clothes for Miller.

He’s about my height and build, so I grab a beige shirt with a brown stripe horizontally across the pecs and olive green sweat pants, plus a new pack of underwear.

I intersect the two of them in the hall and hand the clothes to Miller before heading to the bedroom to watch Little Miss swing. I lie on the floor until she fusses, and I realize she can’t see me.

“What a smart critter. You wanna see the adult taking care of you? The Daddy?” I whisper, and grin at how weird it is. I’m still crooning at her when Sky steps into the room.

He walks over to us, crouching down beside the baby. “Man,” he says, shaking his head. “Did you listen?”

I nod, and my eyes well—unexpected as always, even when it shouldn’t be.

“That was some heavy shit, Sky.” I have to swallow so my voice won’t crack. “You did a good job.”

“Do you think so?” He lets out a long breath, gives another shake of his head. “I just…had no idea. Even what to say. I wasn’t sure,” he admits.

I nod. “Yeah. I thought everything you said was solid. I know talking must have helped him. What else do you think we can we do?”

He shakes his head and blows a breath out, clearly angsty. “I told him to stay. That I’d keep talking if he wants to. He won’t tell me where he’s from. He’s” —Sky grits his teeth— “scared, I guess. Which makes me want to punch things.”

“I know. Me too.”

“Let’s watch the hall cam on my phone to be sure he’s good and he doesn’t bolt or something,” Luke says. “I want to tell you about some plans I have. And why it’s so weird that he showed up with a need like this, at this particular time…”

29

Luke

“So…that comprehensive, huh?” Rayne’s brows are arched up toward his hairline.

I nod, making a funny face down at Eden, who’s laid out on my legs, atop a pillow, while the three of us sit on the living room couch.

“Yeah.” I meet Rayne’s ocean blue eyes. “Do you think it sounds like too much?”

“No way. Not at all. It seems logical, too. People are either on board or they’re not, you know? This is clearly not an issue people feel ho-hum about. If they’re not on board, let this prompt them to just go. Find another church. If they are on board, let’s not half-ass it ourselves,” Vance continues. “Let’s let the church do its job. Be a sanctuary.”

“People would never fail to equate Evermore with gay rights. You know some of them will say we’ve gone all ‘liberal’ with these kinds of causes.”

Rayne gives me such strong side eye, it makes me chuckle.

“Pastor McDowell,” he drawls. “Does Evermore give a shit about politics?”

I shake my head.

“Are you a politician or a preacher?”

“Definitely not a politician.”

He arches a brow, as if to ask if I’m a preacher.

“I’m a preacher,” I say somewhat grudgingly.

“It’s your job to house the houseless, feed the foodless, take care of people who need it. If you need to back yourself up, remind people of the message, do some sermons.” He winks.

Still, I can’t help thinking of the spitting electrician who said I’m biased.

I nod. I can either do it, or don’t. I can stay at Evermore or leave. It really is that simple. In the last few days, it’s really seemed like the board’s with me. If they are, why would I leave? Isn’t that the same as running away? Why start over with a new church when I could just transform this one?

“What’re you thinking?” Vance asks quietly.

“Nothing. Just…you’re right on all that. I either have to be in or out. And that was what I was thinking when I had this idea. Actually, I was rebutting some jerkoff from the Southern Baptist Convention. But…that’s the bottom line: It’s in or out. Why stick around and restrict my own movement? Why hold back from work I know is needed, and would help people?”

Rayne nods. He lifts a shoulder. “That’s what I’m thinking. Anyway, supporting these causes will align you with other people who might want to fund-raise together. Or help in some other way.”

Damn, my boy is up on his philanthropy.

I flash a big grin his way.

“Shut up.” His face pinkens up a bit. “I know I sound like a poser.”

“You sound like my favorite person.”

He smiles, and he looks so happy that my chest goes heavy.

That’s when Miller steps into the room. He’s wearing some of Vanny’s clothes, and he looks pretty near to brand new with his damp hair and clean face. I hadn’t realized he had some stubble going till this moment, when I can tell he’s shaved it off.