Free And the Shofar Blew by Francine Rivers

Centerville wasn’t exactly his style either. He’d have to make do with his truck and fifth wheeler until the project was finished. Six months, at the most. Unless they ran into snags with the inspectors.
    “Here you go,” Sally said and set down a platter with three eggs over easy, hash browns, and a T-bone steak. She replenished his orange juice and filled his coffee cup to the brim.
    Stephen was finishing up the last of his steak when the bell over the door jingled.
    “Parson Paul’s here, Charlie.”
    A young man entered, wearing sweats and a damp T-shirt. His sandy brown hair was cut short. “Hey, Sally,” he said with a grin. “How’s business?”
    “Slow this morning. I expect the crowd to come in around eight. What can I get you?”
    “OJ,” he said, and waved to the elderly couple sitting in the booth before he slid onto the stool one down from Stephen. “I’m Paul Hudson,” he said, extending his hand.
    Stephen introduced himself as he shook hands.
    Sally plunked a tall glass of orange juice on the counter. “How many miles did you run this morning, Parson?”
    “Took the short course. Two.”
    “Wimping out?” Charlie called through the cook’s window.
    Hudson laughed. “Something like that.” He turned to greet the UPS driver. “How’s your wife doing, Al?”
    “Getting antsy for the baby to come.”
    “What does she have to go? Another month?”
    “Two weeks.”
    The mechanic said he enjoyed Hudson’s Sunday sermon. “My daughter’s planning on coming to the next youth meeting. She said a couple of her friends are attending.”
    “We’re up to twelve,” Hudson said. “Tell her to bring as many friends as she wants.” He turned his attention back to Stephen. “Are you a Christian?”
    “I like to think so.”
    “Well, we’d love to have you come and visit Centerville Christian. Two blocks down, turn left; look for the steeple. The service starts at nine.”
    Sally chuckled. “Got to watch out, Decker. Parson Paul is always prowling the pubs for prospective converts.” She zeroed in on Hudson with a sly grin. “Mr. Decker’s new in town, does a little of this and that.” She picked up his plate and looked at it. “Eats like a horse.”
    “Are you looking for work?”
    “Nope. I’m building a house up on Quail Hollow.”
    Sally put the bill in front of Stephen. “Quail Hollow? Are you going to be working on that big place for the Athertons?”
    He nodded.
    “A couple of guys working on the foundation came in the other afternoon. Hector Mendoza and a giant who calls himself Tree House. You know ’em?”
    “Yes, ma’am. They’re the reason I’m here. They told me Charlie’s Diner was the place to come for good food and friendly service. They just didn’t warn me how friendly.”
    She laughed with the others. “Well, Hector and Tree House said the place is going to be over six thousand square feet, and only Atherton and his new wife living in it,” Sally announced to everyone listening. “Can you imagine? What do people do with that much space?”
    Keep their distance, Stephen thought cynically, and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He extracted a twenty and handed it to Sally, who punched the amount into the register and handed him his change. He put a 20 percent tip on the counter as he stood. “Thanks.” He’d needed the few minutes of human interaction before he went back to self-inflicted solitude.
    She grinned. “Good-looking and generous.” She folded the bills and tucked them into her apron pocket. “You come back real soon, Stephen, you hear?”
    “I plan on making this a regular stop.” He gave her a casual salute.
    The bell jingled as he went out the door. Maybe Centerville was just the place he needed to be to lick his wounds.

    Eunice closed the front door of the parsonage and set off toward Main Street holding Timmy by the hand. She tossed the end of the white woolen scarf over her shoulder to keep off the fall chill and fought