Free Wildflowers by Robin Jones Gunn Page A

after I’ve checked the original order form.”
    Genevieve let out an exasperated huff as she hung up the phone.
    “Everything okay?” Leah slipped into the kitchen and scooped up two lunch plates.
    “No. The order for the tables and chairs is a shambles!”
    Leah paused. “Should I tell Seth not to come with the delivery truck this afternoon?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t want to let Shelly down. She needs the tables for her May Day event Saturday.”
    “Which reminds me,” Leah said. “I have to talk to you about that. Let me serve these lunches, and I’ll be right back.”
    Genevieve prepared a tuna sandwich and a chicken salad sandwich while waiting for Leah to return. Leah served the prepared sandwiches and then bustled back through the swinging door. “About the May Day event. Would it help if I took some of the food over Friday evening and set up things in the camp kitchen? I told Shelly I’d help her with table decorations, and I thought I might as well take the food when I go.”
    “Yes, that would be very helpful. Thanks, Leah.”
    “No problem. And let me know as soon as you find out about the new tables so I can give Seth a call.”
    By that afternoon, Genevieve still didn’t know what she was going to do about the tables. The furniture warehouse hadn’t called back so she knew she would have to pursue them. Business had slowed down. Only four women sat inthe dining room at the corner table. They were sipping tea and sharing desserts.
    Genevieve decided to use the phone in the dining room so she could sit down as she spoke to the delivery service and have all the information in front of her. She also thought it might help her to control her temper and to be more polite since the young women sitting at the window table could overhear her if they wanted to.
    One of the women at the table, Jessica Buchanan, looked up and greeted Genevieve from across the room with a smile and a wave. Jessica, a gentle-spirited mother of three, had initiated this meeting time at the Wildflower Café a few weeks ago so several women could participate, without their toddlers, in an informal Bible study. The group previously had met at Jessica’s beautiful Victorian home. Genevieve had been invited numerous times to join them, but she had declined the invitations over the months, saying that her work schedule was too busy.
    At least, that was the reason Genevieve gave. The real reason was that she was nervous about making a commitment to keep up with the study. Years ago, when she had jumped into Bible Study Fellowship with both feet, she had been searching for answers and direction in her life. Now she was hiding. Hiding from her husband, from herself, and although she hadn’t admitted it yet, hiding from God beneath the tangled vines in her heart’s garden. The last place she wanted to be was around women who were out in the open.
    “Yes, this is Genevieve Ahrens calling back for …” Shechecked the warehouse invoice in front of her. “Is it Jack?”
    “One moment please.” A click was followed by music while Genevieve was put on hold. Of all things, the music was Christmas carols!
    She held the phone far enough away from her ear not to be bowled over by the sound of sweet silver bells. Without intending to, Genevieve heard every word the women in the Bible study group were saying.
    “My favorite verse in this chapter is definitely verse 6,” one of the women said. She had warm, brown skin and thick, curly, brown hair that fell over her shoulders. Genevieve had seen her in the café before, and she knew it was possible she had met her, but Genevieve couldn’t remember her name.
    “It seems so crazy,” the woman said, “that Jesus would walk up to this man, who is lying there, paralyzed, and ask him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’ I mean, what paralyzed person wouldn’t want to be healed?”
    Genevieve heard the music stop and held the phone up to her ear. “Hello?” It was only a pause on the