Fiction Friday #10

(This is a continuing series called “Kissing Frogs” posted every Friday.  To get caught up, you can click the “Kissing Frogs . . . so far” link at the top of the page.)

Joey realized part of the way through Sunday School that he had a muffin paper stuck to the tread of his shoe.  It wasn’t surprising considering the gas station coffee cups and take out containers that flooded his truck at the moment.  He and Jack had put in an intense 20 hours of work over two days to replace the plumbing over at Sophia.

Knowing that they couldn’t expect a functioning office to operate without water, the men had committed to do the plumbing work in a single weekend.  Working from five pm Friday evening until midnight and then returning at eight the next morning and hearing the last successful flush near nine  Saturday night, the men were both exhausted, but pleased with both a task well done and time with close friends.

As Joey bent to tug the muffin paper loose, he smiled.  The weekend could have been a total write off.  When Tracey left Friday evening, as the men were setting up, she locked all the doors, telling them someone would be by in the morning to let them back in.  Joey drove up on Saturday morning dreading the “why don’t you have more done?  Will this be finished in time?” style questions he knew he would face the minute Tracey opened those doors.  Instead, he was greeted by Joanna’s contagious smile and home made Banana-Buckwheat muffins.

She’d stayed for three hours, first chatting and asking questions about plumbing in general, and the current tasks specifically, but pretty soon she was threading fittings and carrying PVC.  In fact, her assistance cut at least an hour from the project, and certainly made the start of the day much easier to bear.

When she jumped up from a finished stretch of brand new PVC and said, “Uh-oh, late for fight club,” Jack and Joey both laughed.  She actually apologized for leaving them, and as she locked the doors there was a strange sense of let down.  Jack sighed, flexed his fingers and went back to measuring and cutting pipe.

“I think you should introduce her to Will.” was Jack’s suggestion after remarking at her vivacious personality.

Joey was strangely ambivalent to the suggestion.

The Will in question was teaching Sunday School, and he grinned as Joey sat up, muffin wrapper in his hand.

“So both Wisdom and Folly are women who call out to young men who lack sense.  This is important, guys.  It’s not just a word picture.  The women we choose will either be wisdom or folly. . .”

The lesson from Proverbs faded out again and Joey spent the next half hour in quiet contemplation.

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About Coralie

After 11 years of infertility, I am now a mother to three, a wife of a Presbyterian (ARP) preacher and a struggling homemaker. Welcome to my little corner of the net. Kick off your shoes, put your feet up and join the conversation. View all posts by Coralie

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