“Hey, sugar.” She wrapped an arm around my waist and secured me to her side while facing the group. “I’ve been called a lot of names in my life. Most I’ve earned. I let my mistakes and what people said about me dictate who I was, but it was this young lady who made me realize I’m better than my mistakes and didn’t have to put up with people calling me names.” She tapped my hip. “Most men I’ve encountered who showed me attention expected something in return. I thought that was the way it worked, but Dave Foster taught me kindness could be shown without it costing me my dignity. He invited me to church. He sent his children to my chair at the salon for haircuts when others refused to give me business. Dave never wanted anything but my betterment in return, but I think it’s time for Dave and Austin and the Foster family to allow us to return the acceptance and support they’ve given us.” She gave me a hug and then moved to the front pew.

The room grew quiet as I stood up front by myself, processing what had just transpired.

Foxy hid behind mystery and headscarves.

Miss Wise hid behind a scowl and long sleeves.

Morty hid behind a wink and silk shirts.

Tripp hid behind bar brawls and a rough exterior.

Walynn hid behind big smiles and blue eye shadow.

Although they all had valid reasons for hiding the way they did, they were finally calling themselves out for doing it. And now here they all were, gathered together to call me out for hiding behind tobacco fields and family loyalty.

The windowpanes rattled as thunder tumbled past the church. With the heavy rain pinging against the roof, the flood of emotions released from me. Body trembling, tears pouring, I lay right there on that altar, crying out to God that I couldn’t take it anymore. And then I was surrounded by voices praying over me. Each one crying out on my behalf, forming a harmony with the other voices, and it was the most beautiful symphony I’d ever heard. All I could do was lie there, letting loose until I was wrung completely dry. I’m not sure how long we remained on the floor in the chapel, but the reassurance of them being there for the long haul couldn’t have been more clear.

As the prayers tapered off, Foxy began softly singing, “‘All to Jesus, I surrender.’” Others joined in until we were all singing. Pa would have loved to be in the midst of the beautiful moment. It was the very thing that he always strived to share with everyone. Well, he did until whatever was attacking him took over. It was the first time that I had a hope of finally getting him some help.