Sonya blushed a bit when she faced us. “I’ve had quite a busy day, well a busy week really. So we’re having dinner catered. We’ll be eating in about an hour, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Jeremy and I sang together.

My husband added, “It’ll give us time to talk a little.”

“Exactly, which is the reason why we’re here together,” Reverend Douglas said. “But how can we talk without having a drink in our hands?” Looking at me, he asked, “What can we get you to drink?”

“Oh, I’ll have some water, please,” I said.

He nodded. “What about you, sweetheart?”

“Get me a Perrier.”

“Okay; Jeremy would you join me and help me carry these drinks back inside?”

“Of course.” My husband sprang to his feet, then reached for my hand and squeezed it before he trotted a bit to catch up with Reverend Douglas.

My eyes followed him and I felt so blessed that after ten years, he was still the love of my life. And in that moment, I knew that he would always be.

“So,” the first lady’s voice made me turn to her, “I heard the job fair was a success.”

“It was.” I grinned thinking about how the girls had handed out their resumes, answered questions so professionally, and then had asked their own good questions. “I’m really hoping they will all get a call for a job.”

“I’m hoping, too. You’ve done such a great job with them. I knew you would be an asset to the First Ladies Council.”

I kept my smile, though I wondered if this was my moment to talk to Sonya about some of the things that concerned me with the group. Not so much about Rena, but all the gossiping among the ladies. “You know, First Lady,” I began, and then, Jeremy’s phone vibrated on the table. “Oh, excuse me,” I said. “Our kids are with my assistant tonight, so I just want to make sure she’s not trying to contact us,” I explained as I scooted across the sofa to the table where Jeremy had laid his cell.

Grabbing it, I read the text:

I’ve been waiting for you to call. I need more of what you gave me last night. It’s always great to make up. When can you get away again?

I clutched the phone as I struggled to keep breathing. Above the text, I saw the name: K. Brunson.

“Ginger.”

I heard my name, but the voice sounded so vague. Like someone was whispering to me across the miles. So instead of responding, I studied the name on Jeremy’s phone, then tapped the screen to get to the info. When the number came up, I repeated it a couple of times in my head. I only had to do it once, really. This was a number I’d never forget.

“Ginger, are you all right?”