Boo Who (52 page)

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Me?” He laughed. “Sure! Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get you out of the house?”

She giggled, suppressing a slight hysteria, then said, “Okay, let’s go.”

She and her father went through the doors. She was looking down, trying to make sure she didn’t step on her dress. When she looked up, she gasped.

She could hardly believe her eyes. “Daddy …,” she whispered.

“Wolfe did this,” he whispered back.

Before her was the most glorious sight she’d ever seen. The church had been transformed into a heavenly scene. Candles. Flowers. Red and white petals that had been scattered all over the floor. The front of the church looked like a flower garden. Sprays of flowers, arrangements that she could hardly believe, filled every corridor of the church.

The entire crowd, everyone she’d ever wanted to come to her wedding, was turned to look at her, expectant and joyful expressions on each face. Ainsley’s shaking hand was covering her mouth. She finally looked at Wolfe, who was standing up front with the reverend. He grinned at her, the twinkle in his eye saying,
This is all for you.

The organ started, and she couldn’t help the tears that fell. Her father stepped forward, and she clung to him all the way down the aisle.

When they got to the front, Reverend Peck said, “Who gives this woman to be with this man?”

“I do,” her father said. He lifted her veil to kiss her and gave her hand to Wolfe. “I love you,” he whispered.

Ainsley turned to Wolfe. She wanted to cry her eyes out, but the joy that bubbled up inside her seemed to dry the tears. She couldn’t say thank you, but she knew Wolfe knew. He looked down at her and read everything in her mind.

Today was the best day of her whole life.

“Wolfe!” she nearly screamed.

“What do you think?” he smiled.

She could not believe what she was seeing. The Mansion Restaurant had been turned into a place she hardly recognized. Linen tablecloths covered every table. Candlelight flickered against the ceiling and walls. Soft music played in the background. Each table was set with brilliant white china. White roses were the centerpieces. She was speechless as the crowd turned to greet them.

“Is this what you dreamed your reception would be like?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “This is beyond my imagination!”

He laughed.

“How did you do this?”

“I have a lot of connections, called in a few favors. Your dad had forewarned me that you hadn’t quite gotten the wedding together, so I paid some very well-known wedding planners a lot of money to make a miracle happen. I had a sneaking suspicion about it a while back, to tell you the truth, and had reserved the banquet hall just in case. But this place made more sense. It has roots. And this is the first place you ever spoke to me.”

“Yeah, I remember,” she laughed. “You ordered meat ‘oaf.’”

“I’ve come a long way since then.”

She turned to him and kissed him full on the lips. “You are so amazing!” Then she said, “Hey! Now do I get to know where we’re going on our honeymoon?”

“Yes, now you do.”

“Where?”

He smiled. “The Hamptons.”

Ainsley squealed. “The Hamptons? Oh my gosh! I’ve always wanted to go to the Hamptons! That’s perfect! A vacation to the Hamptons! Wolfe, that’s so wonderful!”

“Not a vacation, sweetheart.”

“Not a vacation? What do you mean?.”

“I didn’t buy you a vacation to the Hamptons.”

“You didn’t?” She frowned.

“I bought you a house in the Hamptons.”

She gasped and felt dizzy. “A … a house?”

“A house. A summer home. We can go there anytime you like. Bring your dad and your brother and your friends sometimes too. You’ll get to see it tomorrow.”

This time she couldn’t hold back her tears. She wept into the collar of his tuxedo.

“I am the happiest woman in the world.”

Melb, though a little exhausted as they had driven straight through from their honeymoon at the Bass Pro Shop out east, was delighted for Ainsley and Wolfe. She and Oliver sat together with Garth, Ginger, and Butch as they all watched Ainsley and Wolfe cut their wedding cake.

“Life doesn’t get any better than this, does it, dear?” Oliver said, touching her hand.

“You got that right,” she said. “You know, though, there’s one thing that is just eating me alive.”

“What’s that?” Oliver asked.

“Well, I never did bond with that owl. I tried and tried, did everything the book said, but never did. And now he seems to have disappeared.”

Garth leaned in. “You’re talking about that owl that was always making a racket with his who-who-ing?”

“Yes,” Melb said. “He’s vanished.”

“No. I found the owl after your wedding, right outside the community center, in fact. Broke its wing.”

“Oh no!” Melb said. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yes. Patched up the wing, should be fine in a couple of weeks.”

“Poor guy.”

“Well, one thing you might want to know,” Garth said. “Your guy ain’t a guy.”

“What?”

“That owl is female.”

In rapid succession, cocked eyebrows popped up all around the table. Melb blushed. “Oh … So the ‘he’ is a ‘she’.”

Oliver laughed. “Well, I guess the mystery is solved as to why that owl never did take a liking to you.”

Everyone else laughed, and Melb couldn’t help but chuckle herself. “Well, it’s not the mystery of the universe solved, but at least I can sleep at night!”

Alfred found Reverend Peck at a table by himself finally. How that man could draw a crowd sometimes! He was sipping some punch and eating cake when Alfred sat down next to him.

“Hi Alfred,” the reverend said with a smile.

“You remember me?” Alfred asked, astonished.

“Of course. How are you?”

“I’m … I’m good. Life has thrown me some curve balls, but I’m trying to make the best of it.”

“That’s good to hear,” the reverend said.

“But I wanted a moment to talk with you.”

“Sure.”

“I’m not going to confess a deep dark secret or anything like that, though I have a few more than I’d like to admit.”

“It’d be fine if you did. I’m always available, Alfred.”

“Um, well, thank you. But anyway, what I wanted to know is whether I could be of service to you.”

“How so?”

“Well, long before I was an editor, and long before I was agent, I majored in marketing.”

“No kidding?”

“I’m really quite good at it, to tell you the truth. I can sell sirloin to a vegetarian.”

“Interesting.”

“What I’m trying to say here is that I’d like to help you with your church. Try to get the word out about it, try to get some new bodies in the pews.”

The reverend smiled. “That is so kind of you, Alfred. But I don’t have the money to pay for something like that.”

“Consider it a gift. Just a chance for me to do something I’m good at, give back to the community.”

“The community. Your community?” the reverend asked.

Alfred smiled. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m calling it. My community.”

The reverend set down his fork and thought for a moment. “Well, Alfred, this is very interesting. Just last night I told the Lord Jesus that if He wanted anything to happen with the little church, He was going to have to make it happen, because I no longer had the strength to do anything more than stand there and preach the Word. Sounds like He was listening.”

Alfred smiled a little.

“I accept your offer on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll be one of those in the pews.”

Alfred grinned. “Yes sir.” “Then I accept.”

And then Alfred went on to tell the reverend that he was sure with the right tactics, the church could grow like a weed.

The reverend had to point out that Alfred was going to have to find a new analogy.

E
PILOGUE

“A
ND SO, WITH
its prostitutes, misfits, alcoholics, and more, Skary, Indiana, became a refuge for those who had lost their way in life. They saw people for who God created them to be, not for the way life had used and abused them. In many respects, Skary didn’t have a chance at ever succeeding, ever becoming a flourishing town of productive citizens. But three pastors knew that the kind of grace they were offering produced the kind of people who took a second chance and made all they could of it.

“So, on September 5, 1870, Skary, Indiana, officially became a town. And nobody hid in the shadows of the wilderness anymore. Life was built one steppingstone at a time.

“And a young woman named Clara gave birth to a little baby named Jillian. And Jillian grew up and married a man named Stewart Peeple. Together, they had two children, Sissy and Missy.

“Years later, it would be Missy Clara Peeple who would sacrifice everything near and dear to her to try to save the town that had once saved her grandmother and her mother. And on the day she was buried, a woman who was scorned and disliked most of her life, had the whole town show up at her funeral, to pay their respects to a woman hardly anyone understood, but who all now appreciated for what she gave back to the community, which was a sense of hope and purpose.

“Whatever Skary, Indiana, may be in the future, its roots will always be grounded in what it was created to be. And because of that, every person in the town found their own purpose, their own chance to make a difference, their own chance to see that love can conquer all.”

Wolfe quietly closed his manuscript. The gigantic crowd that had filled the community center could hardly be heard breathing. And then they erupted into applause. People were wiping tears from their eyes and shaking each other’s hands.

Ainsley bounded up onto the stage and hugged him with all her strength.

“Wolfe! That was a beautiful story!”

He smiled. After returning from their honeymoon, he’d written it in three weeks. “I wrote it with all my heart. I’ve never felt so passionate about writing anything in my life. It still needs some work, though.”

A man walked up and stuck out his hand to Wolfe. “Sir,” he said, “I think that mighta just changed my life. Me and the wife, we were planning on moving next year. Going off to a bigger place. But I think we’ll stay. Heck, it’s where our roots are.” He smiled warmly at Wolfe. “That was the most inspirational thing I think I’ve ever heard.”

The man walked off, and Wolfe turned to Ainsley. “Inspirational,” he said quietly and smiled. “Yeah, inspirational.”

Alfred Tennison stood at the back of the room, his heart in a pitter-pattered mess of emotions as he listened to his favorite author read once again. He’d never heard Wolfe read with this kind of passion and emotion. In fact, in all the years he’d known him, he thought the guy usually did quite a dull reading of his own material.

He noticed the woman next to him sniffling up a storm. What was with all the boohooing this town did? The woman glanced up at him, noticing his stares. “I’m sorry. I get emotional when I hear such inspiring stories.” She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lois. Lois Stepaphanolopolis. Oliver’s cousin.”

“Oh. Um, hi. Alfred Tennison.”

Lois stared at Wolfe on the platform. “Tell you what. The guy ought to be writing inspirational fiction.”

“Inspirational fiction? What’s that?”

“Don’t you know? It’s fiction with meaning and purpose. Stories that give people hope for their future. Shows people God loves ’em.”

“That’s interesting. I’ve been an agent and an editor. Maybe I’ll look into it. I’m sort of out of work.”

The woman laughed. “Well, everybody gets along real well in that industry, and the writers, they’re divinely inspired, hearing straight from God, so they don’t need any editors to tell them what to do. When you’re hearing from the Good Lord, there’s hardly room for a mistake, you know! In fact, I hear the writers don’t even take a bit of money for what they write—they just do it out of the goodness of their hearts—so I guess they wouldn’t need any sort of agent. And I think the publishers donate all their earnings to missions or something like that.”

Alfred sighed. “Oh. That’s too bad.”

Lois moved a step closer to Alfred. “You say you’re an agent?”

“Was.”

“I’ve been looking for an agent. I’m an actress, you see. I do the role of Sandra Dee in the most unforgettable way.”