Free An Imperfect Miracle by Thomas L. Peters Page A

started eating we all held hands like usual, and then Uncle Carl said grace the way he always said it, short and sweet, not like those long-winded prayers at our church that I sometimes dozed off in halfway through. “Thank you, Lord, for this meal and bless us all,” or something like that. While we were praying I cracked open one eye to see if I could tell what was wrong with Uncle Carl, but he looked fine to me.
    Aunt Helen started passing around the plate stacked so high with corn that some of the ears broke loose and started rolling down the sides.
    â€œNow, what’s all this about you two moving up here?”
    Right away Mom shot her eyes toward me and sort of frowned, like I wasn’t supposed to be hearing any of this. But Aunt Helen was the only person I knew who didn’t let Mom push her around.
    â€œI just thought that a rural lifestyle might suit us better.”
    I was busy spooning mashed potatoes onto my plate before Uncle Carl got to them. “I don’t want to move, not with Mary showing up.”
    â€œQuit talking with your mouth full,” Mom growled, even though my mouth was pretty much empty.
    Aunt Helen winked at me and then passed me the plate full of hot buttery rolls. I grabbed three before passing the plate on to Uncle Carl, who snapped up the rest. “It’s funny that the town puts up with this Mary business,” Aunt Helen said, winking at me again, like I was supposed to be agreeing with her or something. “In this day and age too.”
    By then Uncle Carl was busy wolfing down the corn, and some of the kernels were already spilling out the corners of his mouth.
    â€œPeople need something to believe in besides crooked politicians and greedy corporations. I don’t see any real harm in it.”
    Aunt Helen told him to quit stuffing so much food in all at once, or else he’d get heartburn again.
    â€œOf course, you’re welcome to stay with us until you find a place. How are you getting along with that young single friend of yours? The nice minister you were telling us about.”
    My ears sure perked up then.
    â€œI’m really not his type,” Mom said. Her cheeks turned all bright red as she flicked her eyes over at me again. “The younger women are always mobbing him at church.”
    â€œHe’s not all that much younger than you,” Aunt Helen broke in. “Ten years maybe.”
    â€œSeven,” Mom said real fast.
    Aunt Helen smiled kind of weak.
    â€œThat’s not very much these days. Some women are marrying men half their age and younger.”
    â€œThey tend to be rich women,” Mom said kind of slow and gloomy.
    Uncle Carl was still chewing on his corn. It must have taken him a little longer to get it all down on account of his new false teeth that he claimed didn’t fit him very snug. Finally he got to where he could talk so that you could mostly understand him.
    â€œThe fact that you’re divorced, you don’t think that’s a problem for him, being as religious as he is, do you?”
    Mom scooped some more mashed potatoes onto my plate like they were about to run out. But I’d had my fill of mashed potatoes and wanted to work on the corn, so I pushed them off a little to the side when nobody was looking.
    â€œI don’t really know. But he’s such a nice man, and very smart and accomplished too. I’m sure one day he’ll head up a huge church somewhere.”
    â€œThen he might be a good catch,” Uncle Carl said. “You’ve still got your looks, Jodie. You ought to go after him and quit sulking and feeling sorry for yourself.”
    Aunt Helen yelled at Uncle Carl for being rude, but Aunt Helen wasn’t like Mom and never stayed mad for long. Then they talked about pretty much nothing as far as I could tell. That was fine by me, since I was free to eat all the corn and tomatoes I wanted without having to slow down to say something.
    I was just