Chapter 5
Mark stood still. It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he was available, eligible, and unmarried, but.
.. he wasn't trying to come on to her in any way.
He had just come to visit her as one of his congregants.
He'd also been told that he needed to talk to her about the candles for the candlelight service.
And then somehow they got to talking about marriage and men and who was eligible in the church, and there was a part of him that was inside, jumping up and down with his hand raised, shouting, "Me, me!
" But... that was part of the problem. It was like a teacher marrying a student.
He couldn't court someone in his congregation.
He was supposed to be their shepherd, not their lover.
Plus, he wanted to marry someone who was interested in helping him with the church.
It was a huge responsibility, and churches normally expected the pastor's wife to run Bible studies and organize meals for shut-ins and sick people, and pitch in wherever she can, and he would hope that she would go along on visitation with him, particularly if he were visiting ladies in the hospital, and to console wives and mothers alongside him. To be his helpmate.
This lady was obviously a business owner.
"I suppose you already know I'm Mark Stevens. It's good to meet you," he said, holding his hand out and realizing belatedly he didn't even know her name.
"My name is Olivia Winters. And it's good to meet you too. Nice change of subject, by the way," she said, laughing a little, like he'd done it on purpose. Maybe he had. He was feeling a little spooked, and didn't know what to say, because there technically was an eligible man in the church now.
"It's not easy to be a business owner," he said, not really digging for information, but just trying to get to know her a little.
"It wasn't my plan. But I guess we've already established the fact that I'm bitter against God and I shouldn't be."
"It wasn't your plan?" he asked, ignoring what she said about being bitter.
He couldn't blame her. He didn't understand why God moved the way He did, worked the way He did, or why some people suffered tragedy after tragedy while it seemed like others led a charmed life.
He couldn't say that he thought it was fair.
And he definitely couldn't say that she shouldn't be bitter.
He knew that she shouldn't, but he had no right to tell her. He hadn't lost a spouse.
"No. This was just a hobby. I love it. I really love coming up with different scents."
"The baked bread scent that you gave me was amazing. I was totally fooled into thinking that there was warm, homemade bread with melted butter on it somewhere in my house, but alas, it was just a candle."
"Sorry to disappoint you," she said with a chuckle.
"I wasn't disappointed. It was very welcoming. I don't think you could've picked a better one."
"Thanks. That's what I love to send, especially if I know it's going to be lit before people get there. There's nothing like warm baked bread, is there?"
"No. Definitely made the house feel welcoming. You're very good at it, like I said."
"Thanks. I think sometimes when things stop being a hobby and start being something that you have to depend on in order for your livelihood, you have a tendency to... maybe not enjoy them as much."
"I see. So you work because you have to, not because you want to?"
"I'm blessed to be able to do something I love. But... I guess this wasn't exactly my dream." She lifted a shoulder and went back to work, looking at her hands, and while he was curious as to what her dream actually was, he wasn't sure it was something she wanted to talk about.
"I actually was here on a little bit of business."
"Okay," she said, glancing up and seeming interested.
"Mrs. Tucker told me that you typically provide special order candles for the church. That does have to be approved by the church committee, but I figured I would just drop in and check to make sure that we were still on the same page."
"I was wondering that myself. Pastor Johnson has been very generous to me.
I'm sure part of it was that he wanted to support the single mom with twin boys who was trying to make a living, and part of it is because the candles really were a huge asset to the church.
They lit them on Christmas Eve, and then used them almost the entire month of January.
Some services they did entirely by candlelight.
It makes January a much cozier, happier month. "
"I would imagine it would. Pastor Johnson gave me a heads up on a lot of things, but he hadn't mentioned that."
"I'm sure there were much more important things he needed to talk about."
"So you're still able to provide the candles as you normally do?"
"Yes. I haven't started making them yet, because I wasn't sure where we were.
I also know that the church was trying to cut the budget in some areas so they could send more money to missions this year, and I wasn't sure whether the candles, which are an extra, unnecessary, expense, were on the chopping block or not. "
"The meeting is tomorrow. I should be able to tell you by Wednesday at the very latest."
"That'll be fine. I have plenty of time to make them. They are always a labor of love."
She seemed happy and content, and not pressured at all. Although, she did seem to work an awful lot. He’d noticed her light on until late in the night the night before, even though it was Sunday.
"Your shop is not open on Sunday, but you still worked."
"I did. I know we're supposed to take a day of rest, but this time of year, I need to do everything I can, because the sales from the Christmas season make up almost half of my budget for the year."
"Wow. That's a lot."
"Yeah. So you can see why I might work seven days a week just to make sure that I can stay solvent the rest of the year. I try not to make it a habit."
"I'm glad to hear that. Everyone needs rest."
"You work on Sundays."
Her voice sounded reasonable and conversational, not accusatory. She wasn't trying to do a gotcha on him. At least he didn't get that impression.
"But I take another day of the week off. Usually Tuesday or Thursday. But I'll settle into a schedule here."
"Your previous pastorate wasn't that far away, was it?"
"No. It wasn't."
He wondered why Noah had never mentioned Olivia as someone the Secret Saint could help.
He had been helping Noah Parker with Secret Saint activities for more than a year.
Almost two years. It was a fun thing that someone in Mistletoe Meadows had started, and they had passed the baton around until there was a huge network of people who told other people who told other people about anyone who might need anything.
The town was practically famous for their Secret Saint tradition every Christmas.
But to his knowledge Olivia's name had never come up.
"I imagine your parents probably help you a good bit with the children."
"No. I haven't talked to my parents in more than four years."
Wow. There was something going on there.
As a pastor, he wanted to probe a little deeper, but he had just met her, and he thought that maybe he should let it rest. Maybe he would hear bits and pieces from someone else, not that he wanted to gossip.
But her mouth pressed down tight and she was more absorbed in her work than she had been since he arrived.
She obviously did not want to talk about it.
"My parents passed away about that long ago. I miss them dreadfully."
"I'm sorry. I guess you would've lost them just shortly before I lost my husband."
No husband, and she didn't talk to her parents. Interesting.
"Well, it was good to meet you. I'm going around trying to meet everyone, and I did have a little piece of business to deal with you, but it sounds like we're on for the candles as long as everything goes well at the meeting tomorrow."
"That's right. If there's anything else that you need in the meantime, you can let me know."
"I'm sorry I missed you yesterday at church."
"After the service I had to go down because I teach Sunday school to the three- and four-year-olds. But you seemed to be swarmed anyway, and I figured there would be plenty of time for us to meet. I didn't realize you were going to be showing up at my shop today."
So that's why he hadn't seen her. She taught Sunday school. Interesting.
There was a little voice in the back of his head that said that was what a good pastor's wife would do, but he tried to shut it down. This woman had a lot of baggage, from her anger at God, to the fact that she didn't talk to her parents, to trying to keep a business afloat by herself.
"Well, if you need me, you know where I'll be. The door swings both ways."
She looked up at his saying and smiled, like she hadn't heard it in a while but liked it.
He returned her smile, nodded, and then turned to leave with a last glance at the boys. They were cute, and had been playing nicely together the whole time he had been visiting. Obviously, they were used to being in the shop when she was with customers.
"Hey, mister," one of the boys said, looking up and catching him looking at them.
"Hey there. Looks like you guys have a nice collection of trucks."
He glanced at Olivia and raised his brows. She looked over his shoulder and nodded in answer to his unspoken question.
He walked over and hunched down.
"What are you hauling?" he asked, pointing to the truck that was parked at his feet.
"That one has potatoes on it. And that one has candles," the boy said.
The other boy didn't say much, but nodded along with his brother. It made sense that one of the boys was a little more outgoing than the other. In his experience, that was often true of siblings, where the ones that hung back were able to because there were others that stepped forward to talk.
Family dynamics had always been interesting to him, and twins were especially intriguing.
"Are you the new pastor?" the little boy who hadn't said anything yet asked.
"I am. I'm Pastor Mark. What's your name?" He held his hand out to the little boy who had asked.
"I'm Ethan." The boy looked at his hand, as though he weren't used to shaking adults' hands, and then his little hand came out and slipped into Mark's much larger one.
He shook it solemnly, and then looked at the other little boy.
"I'm Pastor Mark. Who are you?" he asked, offering him a handshake as well.
This boy smiled confidently and grabbed Pastor Mark's hand like he'd shaken a million of them before in his life. "I'm Aiden. It's very nice to meet you."
He sounded like a little adult, like he was parroting something his mother or another adult had said.
"The feeling is mutual," Mark said, biting back a grin.
"Do you want to play with us?" Ethan said, looking eager.
"No, dummy. Don't ask him to play with us. If he stays, Mom's never gonna have lunch ready."
Mark laughed at Aiden trying to whisper to his brother.
"I'd love to play with you guys, but maybe some other time. I have some other visits I need to make today."
"That's your job?" Aidan asked. Apparently it was okay for him to talk to the pastor—it was just Ethan who got in trouble.
"It actually is. It's my job to go around and visit people, and to talk to them about Jesus, or anything else they want to talk about. And to see how I can help them."
"And you get paid for that?" Ethan said, his eyes wide.
Mark chuckled. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it?
" He almost went into how he worked for God and not for man, but while the kids seemed to be pretty intelligent for four-year-olds, he didn't want to hold up their lunch any longer than necessary.
In fact, he was getting a little hungry himself.
"I won't hold you up anymore. Maybe Mom will get lunch on the table if I scoot out of here. "
"I'm hungry," Aidan said in a little voice that mimicked his own.
"I bet you are. Although, you don't have to take a nap after lunch, do you?"
"Not if Mom doesn't remember," Aiden said, looking at his mom over Mark's shoulder, as though he were hoping that she didn't hear him.
"All right. Well, have a good day, and hopefully no naps."
The boys waved bye and went back to their playing as Mark straightened and walked toward the door into the shop.
"Nice kids," he said. Meaning it. They were mature for their age, and polite, although still children, and still human.
"Thanks. You're good with them," Olivia said, and his heart warmed. He didn't think he was particularly great with children, but Olivia's compliment seemed sincere, and he'd take it.
"Thanks." He couldn't think of anything else to say, and really did have a couple of other visits he wanted to make. A few other items of business he wanted to get settled before he went to the meeting the next night.
"Take care. I'm sure I'll see you around. Thanks for chatting with me today."
"No problem. See ya."
There was a lot about Olivia that intrigued him, and he hoped that he would continue to get to know her.