The choir director returned my email right away and provided me with some dates for their upcoming open-enrollment tryouts.
Printing out all the materials, I wondered how Reed was going to react. When I got to his office, he wasn’t there, so I left all the information in a folder on his desk with a note that read: Paying you back. Let’s do this!The next morning, I got to the office early to find another blue note from Reed sitting on the center of my desk.
Anytime I’d see this stationery, it would give me goosebumps and remind me about discovering that blue piece of paper inside of the dress.
I eagerly picked up the note and read it.
Dear Charlotte:
Do you know why squirrels love you so much?
Because you’re NUTS.
Reed
I shook my head and whispered to myself, “These are the kind of love notes you’re doling out now, Eastwood?” I laughed. “More like a hate note.”CHAPTER 15
REED
I hadn’t planned on showing up.
At least that was what I’d told myself. The fact that I’d set up an appointment with a prospective seller in the Cobble Hill section of Brooklyn had nothing to do with open tryouts going on twelve blocks away the very same day.
My meeting happened to end at six thirty, and driving up Smith Street took me right past a certain massive church. Next thing I knew, I had parked and was following a herd of people like a mindless sheep.
“Welcome to the Tabernacle.” An older man at the entrance handed me a brochure with a warm smile. “Talent is a gift from God. Sharing it here is your gift back. Good luck tonight.”
While the inviting gesture should have made me feel at ease, it made me feel the exact opposite. I wanted to run the hell out of here. But since I’d come this far, I tamped down the urge to flee, took a seat in the very back row, and watched all the excited faces pile into the front pews of the church.
“Mind if I sit next to you?” The guy who’d greeted me stood in the aisle at the end of the pew I sat in. I glanced around the church. There had to be thirty completely empty rows in front of me.
He read my face. “I like to sit next to the door in case there are any interruptions or latecomers that make a ruckus.”
I nodded and slid over in the pew to make room. It was after seven. People had stopped piling in, but auditions hadn’t started up yet.
“You new? Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
“I just stopped in to . . .” What the hell was I doing here? “. . . to check things out.”
“So you don’t sing?”
“No. Yes. No. Yes. I mean . . . I used to. A long time ago.”
He nodded. “What made you stop coming to church?”
I hadn’t said I’d stopped coming to church. I’d only implied I once sang and didn’t anymore. “How do you know I don’t go to a different church?”
He smiled. “Do you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No. I don’t.”
He motioned to the back pews. “When people first come back after a long absence, they tend to sit in the back rows.”
I nodded. “Makes the escape easier.”
“How long’s it been?”
“Since I sang?”
He shook his head. “No. Since you’ve been to God’s house.”
I knew the answer without having to think about it. The last time I’d stepped foot inside of a church had been with Allison. We’d gone to mass before our scheduled meeting with the deacon. It had been two weeks before our wedding day, and we’d given him the readings and song choices we’d picked out for the ceremony. Ironically, the day we’d gone to God’s house had been the night that she’d chosen for her come-to-Jesus moment. “It’s been a while.”
“I’m Terrence.” The man extended his hand. “Welcome back.”
“Reed.” I shook. “And I’m not sure I’m actually back.”
“Every journey begins with a first step. You planning on trying out for the choir?”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet. Figured I’d watch tonight and see how things go. There’s a second tryout night next week, isn’t there?”
“That’s right.”
The church doors opened, and a guy in a maintenance uniform walked in. Spotting Terrence, he said, “Got an issue with the boiler in the basement. Could use a few hands to help me move the file cabinets that Miss Margaret made us store down there. They’re blocking access to the system.”
Terrence nodded and turned to me. “A volunteer’s work is never done around here.” He stood and patted me on the shoulder. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”A few days later, I still hadn’t decided if I was going back for the only other audition night at the Brooklyn Tabernacle. But when I went into my online calendar, I noticed that an appointment had been booked for that night. The scheduler showed that Charlotte had entered the appointment, although the only information on the blocked-out time was a bunch of letters that spelled nothing: SFBGITS.