4. 4
4
The cluster of congregants shuffled their way out of the early service of the New Hope Church . Churchgoers mobbed the exit slowly, eager to get to mid-morning brunches. The mass of clustered bodies made Barrett feel claustrophobic.
His grandmother clung to his arm, walking molasses-slow up the aisle as they funneled toward Pastor Erikson and his wife, Maggie, who stood at the exit shaking everyone’s hands in the name of fellowship.
“Stella,” crooned a fragile voice from a row in the middle of the church.
Barrett rolled his eyes at the sound of Susan’s voice. Susan Glenecky was an annoying gossip Barrett had the misfortune of knowing most of his life due to her miraculously befriending his saint of a grandmother. Even though every sermon was only an hour long, it was nearly two hours before Barrett could take Gam-Gam home with all the catching up Susan usually had to do. As soon as the motor-mouth had caught sight of his grandmother, it was game over.
Susan hobbled over to Stella and gave her a hug. As they embraced, Barrett wondered if either of them ever remembered a time when a telephone didn’t exist. They certainly seemed old enough. Susan looked like if you touched her, she would crumble like cheap plaster.
“My gosh, son,” Susan grabbed Barrett’s forearm and squeezed, “You look more like your father every day.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Glenecky. You look extra… purple today, by the way.” Barrett gestured to her gaudy outfit, trying to make it sound like a compliment. The woman looked like a shriveled eggplant.
“Thank you!” Susan attempted a brittle curtsy and showcased her top row of dentures in a smile akin to a Chihuahua’s growl. “You look dashing as well. I love the tie.”
Barrett readjusted the Windsor knot of his necktie, one a hideous brown, dotted with repeating donuts and sprinkles. “Thanks. Gam-Gam bought it for me.”
“I figured as much. You look like you haven’t eaten a donut since you were a little boy. Oh, gosh, what adorably chubby cheeks you used to have!” She reached out to pinch his cheek, and Barrett artfully dodged. The old coot’s age-spotted hands had a grip like a vice.
The crowd further congealed as everyone jammed into the main aisle. People huffed as they tried to exit, having already forgotten about the patience preached about in the sermon.
Barrett held Stella’s hand, and Susan chattered about the week’s goings-on. Barrett escorted them toward the pastor with an arm around each to corral them. He could see the snow-dusted lawn up ahead through the open doors. They were in the home stretch.
“Are you listening to me, Barrett?” Susan asked, clutching his wrist hard as an icy breeze blasted in and ruffled through her short blue-gray ringlets.
Mentally, Barrett had been miles away, reminiscing about the rainbow-haired vixen on her knees, draped over his bedspread, begging him to fuck her just a few short hours before.
“Hmmm?”
“I said I have a girl I want you to meet,” Susan exclaimed as if it were headline news.
“Oh, God.” He groaned. “Susan, we agreed. No more blind dates. I refuse.”
“I know, I know, but she just got back from college. Plus, she’s the pastor’s daughter, so you know she’s not a trollop.”
Stella elbowed Susan in the side.
“Ow! What?!”
“Watch your language. We are in a church!”
“Lord almighty, Stella, it’s not like I said ‘ hussy ,’” Susan growled, rubbing her side.
Barrett tried to wrangle them past the pastor. Susan snatched the pastor’s wife by the arm and pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek with her bizarre old woman strength. “Maggie! Good to see you! You remember Barrett.”
Maggie stretched out an arm, white gown with tulip sleeves swaying as she reached for his hand. Her deceptively youthful eyes were bright, face framed with gentle curls of sandy-blonde hair.
Damn , he thought. If she were a decade younger and unattached…
Maybe .
“Barrett! How are you?” Maggie’s voice was soft and comforting, but there was something disingenuous about it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Erikson,” Barrett kept his tone reverent and shook her hand.
Pastor Erikson straightened his bulky frame and shook Barrett’s hand next, squeezing it so hard that Barrett nearly yelped.
“Pastor. Good to see you again. Heck of a grip you got there.”
“That Bible ain’t light, you know!” The pastor laughed. “Good to see you, son. It’s been a while. How’d you like the sermon?”
Susan’s eyes drifted to the pastor’s wrist, stuck on the wrinkled cuff of his suit jacket.
“Great. Felt like just what I needed to hear today,” Barrett lied.
“Glad to hear it. We could all use a little more patience these days.”
Susan leaned closer to Maggie and whispered loud enough for the others to hear. “Your husband is all wrinkled. You need to borrow my iron? It wouldn’t be any trouble. It has the steam bit and everything.”
Maggie flashed a look of embarrassment. “I… have an iron.”
The pastor looked at the crinkled fabric and rocked on his feet. “More pressing things in life have been occupying our time as of late, I’m afraid.”
Maggie jumped in. “I’ve been so busy leading the women’s Bible study groups and working on the new children’s Sunday school sermons. Plus, I’ve been coordinating a drive to collect meals and coats for the less fortunate.”
“Well, Barrett could help with all of your ironing.” Susan grinned. “He’s a maid now. Can you believe it?”
Barrett swallowed hard, his ugly tie suddenly seeming far too tight. “My job is more janitorial than anything.”
Last week, he’d told his grandmother about quitting his old job hauling furniture to start a new job at Man Maid , Jackson Hole’s all-male cleaning service. Of course, he did so in the broadest of strokes. He told her that they catered to a very particular niche clientele. He told her about the Halloween costumes and said that most of his clients would be rich, bored housewives who wanted both a cheap thrill and a clean grill .
Stella was open-minded and no stranger to Barrett’s antics through the years. She loved him for exactly the man he was, and her acceptance of his wild shenanigans through the years only strengthened their bond. Hearing that he had joined a nearly nude cleaning service only shocked Stella because her grandson seemed painfully under qualified for the cleaning part, having seen the condition of his bachelor pad worsen over the last decade.
But hearing this news from Susan’s lips made Barrett wonder how much Stella had actually told the old chatterbox. Did she think he was just a regular run-of-the-mill house cleaner? Or had Gam-Gam divulged all of the dirty details?
“Really? I’ve never actually heard of a man being a maid, funny enough.” Maggie chuckled. “That’s so… interesting .”
“Yep.” Barrett pursed his lips for a moment. “I clean homes, do laundry, power-wash concrete… you name it.” He waved her off. “But I’m sure you have everything under control. Asking a maid to come in… seems like overkill.”
“No! Actually, this is perfect timing,” the pastor said.
“Maybe we could use your services now that I’m trying to juggle all of this stuff. Plus, our daughter just moved back home, and she’s a bit of a… a disaster .” The last word soured Maggie’s face, and she stared at the carpet.
Pastor Erikson scoffed. “She’s a tornado. Gets it from her mother.”
Maggie flashed an irritated glare at him.
“I’m kidding, of course.” The pastor threw a beefy arm around his wife’s shoulder. “You’re an angel, off sharing your light with as many people as you can. There’s nothing wrong with that. I could just as easily pick up the iron if I wasn’t doing the same.”
Maggie forced her mouth up into a weak smile. “I’m not sure we could afford your services, unfortunately.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’d do it free of charge,” Susan offered, nudging Barrett. “Anything for the Lord. Right, Barrett?”
“Oh, gosh, no. We’d pay you, of course,” Maggie said quietly.
“Nonsense,” Stella crowed, her kind eyes suddenly pleading with Barrett to do it as a favor to her.
Barrett sighed, “Of course. Anything for the Lord.”
But he wasn’t offering for the Lord. It was Stella that weakened him. His Gam-Gam had sacrificed so much over the years for his comfort. She asked for so little. A few hours of volunteer work felt like the least he could do to repay her.
Pastor Erikson swatted Barrett hard. “When can you start?”
“Let me get with my new boss and check my work schedule.”
“Do you have a business card?” Maggie asked.
“No, not yet.”
Grabbing a pen and a program from the morning’s sermon out of her giant purse, Susan offered them to Barrett. “Here. Write down your phone number so they can call you.”
“Thanks, Susan. You’re so… helpful today,” Barrett said through gritted teeth, hurriedly jotting down his digits, hoping his messy handwriting would be too difficult to decipher.
He handed it to Maggie and smiled. “Hopefully, it’ll work out.”
Another untruth. How many times would he be forced to lie in God’s house in one morning?
“Perfect.” The pastor waved at a cluster of stragglers approaching from behind. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to discuss some things about the new children’s wing with these fine folks. Lovely seeing you all.”
As Barrett’s dress shoes crunched halfway across the dead grass, he whipped around to Susan and glared. In a half-scream-half-whisper, he growled, “ What was that ?!”
“What?” Susan shrugged, oblivious. “It’s a client, ain’t it? You’re welcome!”