Free Too Little, Too Late by Victoria Christopher Murray

lift.”
    She hesitated. “I don’t want to leave my car here. I have a meeting in the morning downtown.”
    Hosea moved toward the phone. “Then I’ll call Pastor Case.”
    She stopped him. “You said he had an emergency; I don’t want to bother him.” She grabbed her PDA. “I’ve done this before, so I know my auto club has a master key. Would you mind if we waited for them?”
    As Natasia made the call, Hosea hung up their coats and then wandered to the small kitchen. He set the coffeemaker, and then wondered how keys that were here just minutes ago, were now gone. It almost seemed like a trick—like the many he’d had to endure over the year from half the single women in the congregation.
    He shook his head. Not Natasia. She was way too classy to resort to something like that. Plus, she had just lost her fiancé.
    By the time Natasia joined him, he agreed with her theory that Pastor Case had mistakenly lifted the keys.
    “I don’t have great news,” she said, as she grabbed the mug Hosea had prepared for her. “It may be a couple of hours because of the weather.”
    Hosea took a sip of his coffee.
    She said, “I hope you didn’t have plans tonight.”
    “Actually, I did.”
    “Sorry,” she said, although she didn’t sound regretful at all.
    He looked at her for a moment. “I’ll bring my plans right here.”
    She frowned and followed him down the hallway. Inside the pastor’s office, he turned on the television and laughed when Natasia clapped her hands.
    “This is exactly what I planned to do,” she said. “I am such a Bears fan.”
    “Really?”
    “Since I was a little girl.”
    “Well, we’re going to have a big problem. Because the Giants are my boys from way back.”
    “It’s on now.” In one motion, she sank onto the floor, crossed her legs yoga-style, and smiled up at him. “Wanna wager?”
    He laughed. “We’re sitting in the middle of God’s house and you’re talking about betting?”
    “Not for money. Just a friendly wager between friends.”
    “Between friends, huh?” he said. And then, he noticed it. The pounding in his chest, the sweaty palms, were gone. Now all he felt was normal. They were just two people waiting out a storm.
    She said, “Tonight you’re not my pastor. We’re just friends—”
    The slam of the door didn’t take Hosea away from that long-ago memory, but his father’s voice did.
    “Hosea!” When he faced his father, Reverend Bush said, “Seems like you were in another place.”
    Another time , he thought. He hugged his father. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
    “Guess so. It has to be exciting, although can’t say your leaving makes me happy. I’m gonna miss you guys.”
    Hosea nodded solemnly, then broke into a grin. “It’s not me…or Jasmine you’re going to miss.”
    Reverend Bush laughed. “I can’t believe you’re taking Jacquie away.” He leaned closer to his son. “Come on. Just leave her here with me.”
    “Yeah, right. Talk to my wife about that.”
    He shook his head. “You can’t blame a grandfather for trying.” Reverend Bush motioned for Hosea to sit down. “So, you didn’t say what you wanted to talk about.”
    “Nothing, really. Just wanted to spend some time with you before we head for La La Land.”
    Reverend Bush pressed his fingers together and peered at his son. “Talk to me.”
    Hosea shifted. “About what?”
    The reverend leaned across his desk, his face stretched with concern. “Everything okay with you and Jasmine?”
    “Oh, yeah. We had our big problems right up front so we know that our marriage can survive anything. We’re good.”
    Reverend Bush nodded. “Glad to hear that. It took me a while to get here, but I’m convinced God has big plans for you two as husband and wife.” Reverend Bush stopped, stared again. “But there’s something you’re not…” He rotated his hand in the air as if that motion would complete his question.
    Hosea glanced out the window. The rain continued to