28. Indestructible

Chapter 28

Indestructible

O akleigh turned the Jeep onto the highway, catching the steering wheel as the oversized tires fishtailed on the icy road.

“Woah there,” Crew exclaimed. Snatching for the handle above his head, he stomped his boot on an imaginary brake pedal.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” she exclaimed.

“I understand, love,” he replied, easing his anxious grip. “But let’s get to church in one piece.”

Maeve had gently broken the news that her mother was coming to Sunday service, and Oakleigh could only pray that she would be able to keep her cool. Any healing that had been achieved now was entirely undone. A swell of hurt and anger was simmering just under the surface, and it felt like the slightest inconvenience would cause her to unravel.

“We’re not gonna let her ruin your day,” Crew reassured.

His encouragement was sweet, but she was still humiliated. Not only had he been forced to deal with the dumpster fire of her chaotic family dysfunction yet again, but he had also heard every one of her mother’s venomous insults.

Crossing the bridge onto Main Street, it was evident it would be a busy day for the sleepy town of White Bridge. Despite the inclement weather, the town was already bustling with life.

“It’ll be weird not meeting in the coffee shop anymore,” Oakleigh remarked, pulling the Jeep into the freshly paved church parking lot. She parked in the furthest spot, where they had a clear view of the tall white steeple.

“It’s going to be great,” Crew grinned.

She turned off the Jeep’s engine and sat for a moment in pensive silence. There were many things she wanted to say to Crew, and yet she couldn’t quite find the words.

“Crew, I’m so —” her words trailed off. It didn’t feel right to apologize on her mother’s behalf, but she had to say something. Her mom was right about one thing — Oakleigh was damaged goods, just not in the crude way that she had insinuated.

Being with her meant sorting through the heavy burden of emotional baggage, and she needed reassurance that Crew was in it for the long haul.

“Oakleigh, look at me,” Crew insisted, pulling her chin toward his steel blue eyes. “You did something amazing, and I’m really proud of you.”

The compliment filled her with a dash of pride, taking the edge off her aching, wounded heart. On top of being incredibly handsome and charming, he possessed the rare talent of knowing just how to lift her spirits when she was down.

“Thanks, but you know I won’t take credit,” she replied. The crowdfunding for the church had been her idea, but she knew the Lord had blessed the project and ultimately used it to bring changes in her. While the church was being rebuilt, so was Oakleigh, brick by brick.

Pushing open the Jeep’s door, Oakleigh’s boots crunched on the icy asphalt. Giving one last glance at her winter look in the reflection of the car window, she paused as she felt Crew’s strong arms wrap around her.

“Hold it,” she ordered. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she snapped a quick selfie. The picture of his handsome face and piercing eyes beside hers drove a smile to her face. “Gah, we are going to make beautiful babies someday.”

Crew’s eyes widened. “Oh, you think so?”

“Too soon?” Oakleigh shrugged, reaching up and running her fingers down his stubbly chin.

“Nah,” he replied with his contagious white grin. He offered his sturdy bicep, and she gratefully intertwined her arm in his as they made their way up the church steps.

Before stepping inside the warm building, she couldn’t help but think about her mother, who was probably already looking for ways to cause aggravation. Searching for any excuse to stall, Oakleigh caught a glimpse of the coffee shop from the corner of her eye. Audrey was there on time to start her Sunday morning routine of brewing coffee and baking cinnamon rolls for Sunday service. There was already a line forming of those who had spent the night in the church, and were in search of morning sustenance.

Audrey fumbled through the keyring with her gloved fingers and gave a happy little clap when she finally found the one she was looking for. The celebration was short-lived as her boots lost traction on the icy sidewalk, causing her to cling to the door handle for dear life while her feet did a perilous dance across the slick ice.

“It’s like watching some sort of tragic cartoon,” Oakleigh sighed with a pitiful shake of her head. “I’ve got to help that girl.”

Crew glanced over her shoulder at the absurd situation unfolding. “Ah yeah,” he said with a tinge of concern. “I’ll come with you.”

“I’ve got this,” Oakleigh deflected, stuffing her gloved hands into her jacket pockets. “Why don’t you check in and see if Maeve and Dallas need a hand.”

He gave her a conspiratorial look. “You’re trying to avoid your mom, aren’t you.”

For someone who had hit his head as many times as Crew had, there was no getting anything past him.

“You guessed it,” she admitted, scuffing her boot against the ground.

He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Take your time. ”

She wrapped her arms around his middle, enjoying his warmth. “I love you,” she breathed out.

“Oh yeah?” He gave a crooked smile as he held her close. “And why’s that?”

“For just being you,” she sighed, reassured that despite the chaos and cruel accusations from the night before, Crew was still her person.

Releasing from their long embrace, Oakleigh dashed across Main Street. She winded through the long line of cars and trucks already in search of a coveted parking spot in the small town. She pushed open the coffee shop door with a loud jingle, and pulled a red apron off the hook.

“I’m here to help,” Oakleigh announced.

“Oh hey,” Audrey said, whisking to the oven to start baking the first batch of cinnamon rolls. “I’m okay, really.”

She still looked frazzled despite her steady words that sounded like a well-memorized script.

“Audrey,” Oakleigh paused, running through her mental checklist on the litany of things she needed to apologize for.

An impatient customer with what she considered an obnoxious looking mustache banged his mug on the counter.

“I asked for a refill?”

Audrey’s eyes filled again with her familiar anxious look.

“I’ll be right with you.”

“You can wait a minute, sir,” Oakleigh said, putting up her hand and ignoring his agitated expression. “Audrey, I was wrong, and I’m sorry. ”

“It's fine,” Audrey deflected.

“No,” Oakleigh shook her head. “It’s not, though.”

“I get it, really,” Audrey responded, crossing her arms to her red apron. “You’re in charge and shouldn’t have to do this type of work anymore.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Oakleigh remarked, raising a sharp eyebrow as she tied her red apron around her waist, cinching in tight. “Making coffee is the most important job I’ve got.”

Relief overtook Audrey’s confident facade, and Oakleigh decided then that she would never again repeat her mistake. Audrey was her employee, but most importantly, she was her friend.

They went to work as a cohesive team. Oakleigh filled carafes with steaming hot coffee while Audrey boxed up cinnamon rolls. There were still a few lingering customers drinking down their last gulp of coffee when Oakleigh announced,

“I think we’re ready to go.”

She hung her apron back on the hook and grabbed two sloshing carafes by the cardboard handles, while stuffing a roll of paper cups under her arm. Even with their combined efforts, hauling the items across the icy pavement to the church would take more than one trip.

Praying earnestly that neither of them would slip on the ice, they made it across the street safe and sound.

Entering the fresh white church lobby, Oakleigh found the table was already set to her strict specifications. Taking in the clean, modern rustic aesthetic, she felt a touch of satisfaction as she stepped back to admire her work.

“It’s perfect,” Audrey praised, stacking the last box of cinnamon rolls. The bounce in her voice signaled the return of her contagious spark of optimism.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Audrey,” Oakleigh said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

Maeve appeared from the sanctuary, giving everything one last scan before opening the doors.

“Everything ready?”

“We’re ready,” Oakleigh acknowledged, glancing nervously past her into the empty church. “Is she here?”

Maeve gave her a knowing look and quietly nodded.

“Okay,” Oakleigh acknowledged, fortifying her walls. “Let’s get on with this.” Pulling out her phone, she pushed open the church’s double doors and stepped outside, blending into the excited crowd gathering there.

The moment had been years in the making, and Oakleigh was determined to capture every moment.

She tapped on her screen and held up her phone as she went live.

Maeve propped open the doors, and Dallas joined her side, taking her hand in his.

The loud cheer from the crowd accompanied Oakleigh’s skyrocketing viewer count, driving a smile to her face. She loved foisting Maeve into the spotlight whenever she could.

If anyone deserved to be admired, it was Maeve .

“For all those who couldn’t make it here in person,” Oakleigh relayed to her online audience with a tinge of pride in her tone, “I want to welcome you to White Bridge Community Church — we couldn’t have done any of this without your prayers and generosity.”

Dallas shook hands while Maeve generously hugged each and every friend, neighbor, and follower who wanted one. Some of the young people looked as though they had journeyed all the way to White Bridge for just the glimmer of acceptance that Maeve offered without partiality.

“I love this,” Oakleigh smiled. She couldn’t help but let the words overflow.

Looking at her screen, she noticed Maeve giving her a subtle gesture to join her side. Oakleigh shook her head and mouthed no. She was determined to preserve the moment for them, fearing that her presence would draw from what she deemed the focus of the day.

Maeve clearly disagreed.

Responding with a look that Oakleigh knew well, she snapped her finger at the place beside her.

With a deep eye roll, Oakleigh donned her most charming smile and obediently stepped by their side. Just as expected, the crowd let out another roar of support.

Amid the recognizable faces, Sadie greeted them before making her way inside. Bosco, the adorable chocolate lab, was wearing little doggy snow boots over his paws, and stayed obediently beside her .

Maeve leaned into Oakleigh, and whispered, “If Dozer doesn’t have a set of those by tomorrow on his little frozen paws —”

Oakleigh thumbed across her screen. “Already on it.”

Her scrolling was interrupted by a familiar gravelly voice. She looked up just in time to catch Dallas extending his hand to Amos, someone who famously claimed he wouldn’t be caught dead in Sunday service.

“I’m here for the cinnamon rolls,” he barked. “Don’t make it weird.”

“We’re just happy to have you,” Dallas chuckled, giving Amos’ hand a firm grip.

Oakleigh knew he meant it.

Looking across the diverse crowd of friends from town and many fresh faces of those who had connected with them over social media, Oakleigh was proud to say there were no strangers at White Bridge Community Church.

All were welcome.

June made her way to the front of the pack, wearing a long floral dress and a proud look that traveled to the corner of her eyes.

“Love you both,” she whispered, pulling Oakleigh and Maeve into a tight hug. “Ruth would have been so proud of you girls.”

When she released them, she put her arm around Oakleigh.

“And how she would have loved this one.”

“Oh yes,” Maeve confirmed with a proud smile .

Oakleigh felt her eyes sting with tears, flicking them away with her pinky before they could ruin her perfect eye makeup. It felt good to know she would have been accepted by someone who had meant so much to so many.

“And you’re not too shabby yourself, cowboy,” June said, giving Dallas a hard thump on the back, and erupting with a loud, contagious cackle.

“Thanks,” he warmly chuckled. “You better get yourself a seat.”

“Oh, Hank’s already in there,” June replied. “At least he better be, or he’s going to get an earful.”

Maeve leaned into Oakleigh’s shoulder and whispered, “We’d better say a prayer for Hank.”

Nearly every pew was full by the time everyone trickled in and found their place.

It was finally time for the service to begin.

Maeve slid into the front pew, followed by Oakleigh and Crew. In the morning’s excitement, Oakleigh had nearly forgotten about her mother, and all the unpleasantness that came with her presence. She scanned the packed church that was designed to hold more than enough people in the town. With the added guests that day, there was standing room only against the back wall .

Harper’s signature bleached blonde hair caught her eye in the sea of faces. She was standing against the back wall with her arms crossed tightly against her chest.

Oakleigh settled back against the pew.

“My mom’s back there.”

Maeve nodded, scuffing her boot across the hardwood floor. “I know she is.”

“What should we do?” Oakleigh inquired, pulling the gloves off her hands and running her sweaty palms down her polyester snow pants.

Maeve quietly considered. “What would you like to do?”

Oakleigh bit her lip hard.

“I hate her, Maeve.”

The harsh whisper escaped before she could draw it back. Clenching her eyes shut, all of the joy she had experienced that morning was replaced with harsh resentment.

“I know you’re going to tell me I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Feeling Crew’s hand on her knee and Maeve’s arm around her shoulders, she felt their tireless support as she attempted to choke back her overflowing emotions.

“We’re going to talk through this, hun,” Maeve whispered. “But right now, you’re going to have to make a choice.”

Oakleigh ran her fingers down the sides of her jaw, contemplating Maeve’s familiar words.

She exhaled.

Dallas was greeted by loud applause as he went onstage and pulled up the wooden stool that had been his long-time pulpit .

“It’s great to see a packed house today,” he began, “And Oakleigh mentioned that we’re streaming as well.”

While Dallas continued his warm introduction, Oakleigh stood to her feet. She quietly slipped past Crew, feeling him squeeze her hand in support. The eyes of the room were on her as she went up the aisle. Her insides churned, and her instinct for self-preservation resisted her every step.

Shuffling past those who had found places against the wall, she finally arrived where her mother was standing all alone.

“Hey, Mom,” Oakleigh said quickly. Harper had yet to lift her eyes, which were noticeably glazed over with a distant look.

Probably still hung over.

Oakleigh stifled the contempt she felt bubbling up.

“Mom?” Oakleigh repeated. “Hey.”

Daring to grab her wrist, she finally drew her mother’s attention. “You should come join us.”

Harper shook her head. “I don’t want to be recognized,” she whispered, her voice raspy and uncharacteristically thick with emotion.

Knowing Harper hated being outshined, even in a crisis, Oakleigh didn’t have the heart to tell her that the latest Davenport announcement wasn’t even trending that morning. It had been displaced entirely by Oakleigh’s popular livestream on the church steps.

Noting that her mother hadn’t yet recoiled from her grasp, Oakleigh took her by the hand. “Mom, you’re safe here,” she affirmed. “I promise. ”

Harper hesitated, appearing to take in her words. Finally agreeing with a quiet nod, Oakleigh led her through the crowd and up the aisle to the front row. Shuffling into the pew, Harper took a seat beside Maeve. Oakleigh took her place next to Crew, who put his arm around her.

“Have I told you I’m proud of you?” he whispered.

Oakleigh gave him a sharp elbow that forced out an audible oof from the handsome cowboy. Catching Maeve’s stern eye, Oakleigh adjusted her posture and leaned into Crew’s muscular bicep. His closeness nearly replaced the roiling anxiety she felt being in forced proximity to her mother.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Dallas said, his smile pushing up his mustache as he wrapped up his introduction. “Let’s worship.”

With Dallas’ prompt, Sawyer limped up to his guitar, pulled the strap over his head, and leaned on a wooden stool beside Bethany. Not even his bruised black eye could hide the spark that had reignited between them over the last few days. He took the guitar pick from between his teeth and strummed across the strings. Even his most simple of actions were still accompanied by a noticeable wince.

Maeve crossed her arms, giving an exasperated sigh.

“Cannot tell that boy anything.”

“Why don’t you stand with me,” Sawyer said into the microphone. “Let’s worship the Lord together.”

The lights dimmed, prompting the congregation to their feet .

Everyone except Harper.

It was the first time in years that Oakleigh had been beside her mother in church. For once, there were no petty comments or mean-spirited jabs about her appearance. Oakleigh glanced down at the woman who was known for her formidable presence. She had effortlessly commanded a room from the height of her towering heels, captivated packed stadiums, brought her audience to tears with perfectly articulated prayers, and was attributed to encouraging countless in their walks with the Lord.

Sitting in the pew with her head down and arms tightly tucked to her chest —

Harper was a shadow of the woman she once was.

I’m not going to let her ruin the day.

Oakleigh focused her attention on the beautiful words of worship. The acoustics of the building accentuated the rich harmony as the congregation sang about the Lord’s neverending mercy.

Even with her eyes closed, she still couldn’t help but feel the negativity of her mother’s presence beside her. It was clawing under Oakleigh’s last nerve that Harper was so bitter she couldn’t even bring herself to participate.

“Mom, aren’t you going to stand?” Oakleigh finally dared to whisper, readying herself for whatever theatrics Harper would pull for being challenged.

Crew leaned over, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just,” Oakleigh began, “why is she even here if — ”

Before she could finish her critical statement, she was interrupted by the sound of a whimpering sob.

Oakleigh swiveled around her at those singing loudly to the crisp strum of Sawyer’s guitar. She built up her nerve to glance down at her mother again, although she didn’t know why —

Harper was indestructible.

Oakleigh’s eyes went wide as there came another anguished cry. Harper quickly pulled her hand over her mouth as though attempting to shore up her crumbling dam of emotions.

Without hesitation, Maeve sat down in the pew and wrapped her arm tightly around her.

Looking down upon her mother’s crumpled frame, Oakleigh folded her hands tightly together to avoid wringing her fingers. She felt complex emotions battling within her, and was frozen in place with uncertainty.

She’s going to hurt me again.

Pulling in a swift breath, she finally understood what Maeve had meant all along. Oakleigh had to decide who she was going to be. She could choose to stay in her warm, cozy comfort zone, offering kindness when it was convenient — or, she could take the difficult path of authenticity, loving others like Jesus, and showing compassion to those who deserved it the least.

She had been loved like that.

Despite her jagged, rough edges, she had been accepted as she was.

She sat in the pew beside her mother, and asked the Lord to protect her vulnerable heart. Resting her hand on Harper’ s quaking shoulders, Oakleigh did what she never had the courage to do before.

Oakleigh prayed with her mom while she quietly wept.

Even as tears dripped through Harper’s fingers, leaving wet marks on the brand-new hardwood flooring, one thing was certain.

Harper Davenport had shattered.