Marrying Butts, Part Four

Leta and the man she would later learn was a minister had several more drinks and developed a laughing rapport. Before they knew it, the bar was closing, and they were headed out.

Neither actually said a word, but they walked side-by-side to his car, where he opened the door for her like a true gentleman, the door to the back seat, that is.

"Not here," she whispered, standing closely enough to him to mingle their body heat. "Don't you know a place a little more private?"

He thought for a moment and then switched doors.

An hour later he dropped her off across the street from her home.

The memory vanished, and there he was, this same man, only now in clerical collar, talking about perennials at a small church where Arthur Butts, the man she was seeing, had taken her for an afternoon lecture.

She glanced at Mr. Butts. He looked as though he was paying attention, his eyes were focused on the speaker, but his mind could have been anywhere. No, she corrected herself, he didn't have that capability. He was actually trying to learn about flower maintenance.

She looked at the minister once again. He was droning on, but not really saying much of any value, at least not to her. Although no flower expert, she did know that whether kept inside or out, flowering plants required sunlight, water and fertilizer, and African violets special soil.

But at least he was brief, and there were only a couple of questions. He thanked everyone for coming and invited them all to lemonade and cookies before they left, and if they had a Christian heart to drop a donation into the basket near the door. More importantly, if they hadn't adopted the will of Christ into their lives, to consider returning the next Sunday for their ten a.m. service or even returning on Tuesday evening for weekly adult Bible study to learn what God wanted for them.

Then he walked down the aisle and stood at the exit to personally greet everyone.

Leta sighed a growling kind of sigh.

But she couldn't just sit there. Mr. Butts was already standing. There was no way to avoid it; she would have to greet the minister. So she did so the only way she knew how, standing tall and confident, like a woman with nothing concealed.

At first, he didn't seem to see her. He focused his attention on Mr. Butts.

"Welcome, brother, welcome," the minister said, vigorously shaking Mr. Butts' hand. "We are pleased to have you."

"Thank, you, Reverend," Mr. Butts said.

"I hope you enjoyed the lecture," the minister continued.

"Yes," Mr. Butts answered, "indeed we did.

"Let me introduce you to my wife, if you don't mind," the minister said. Then he scanned the small group quickly and called to a coterie of women standing near the corner. "Dot! Dot! Come over here and greet our visitors."

Still standing mostly behind her companion, Leta watched as the frumpy woman from the beginning of the lecture waddle away from the others and over to them at her husband's bidding. Leta felt a lump in her throat. Now what could she do?

"Darling," the minister started to say before she had arrived, "this is Mr. Butts, who has joined us today, along with--"

And with this, he reached around Mr. Butts to greet Leta properly.

To be continued.