Sunset painted the broken storm clouds shades of fuchsia, burnt umber, and amethyst as they turned on Main Street. “Who’s hungry?” Lilah asked, pointing to an empty space in front of Earl’s Kitchen. The orange neon sign winked “Open,” beckoning them inside for a dish of comfort and a cup of reassurance after their long day. Jake parked and shut off the engine. Jeremy, Luke, and Eden jumped out the back of the king cab. Jake hesitated, hands still gripping the curve of the smooth steering wheel. Lilah unlatched her seatbelt, but made no other move to leave the cab. “Quite an effort today.” He cleared his throat. “Well done.” “You, too.” A smile touched her lips. “It meant something to those folks, you know. Your being there.” “I didn’t do anything.” “You. God. Whatever.” She emitted a strange-sounding laugh. “Me, God, whatever?” He repeated her callous words, a shard of worry slicing his spirit. Where was this flirtation going, exactly? If he followed this relationship through to fruition, what sort of comfort would she be as a pastor’s wife?
