“Okay, what’s your problem?” asked J. C. when we walked into the tiled foyer of their townhouse.
“Nothing,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“Sorry, that doesn’t work with me,” he said. “We can’t help if you don’t open up to us. Now, what’s you problem?”
We walked down a short picture lined hallway and into the family room. I sat down on a soft brown leather sofa while J. C. and Shira sat on a matching one on the opposite side of a glass-topped coffee table. I turned to look out the windows at the Golden Gate Bridge. No fog. Sunny and clear. Traffic seemed light on the bridge for 10:30 in the morning. I turned to face my friends.
“Here’s the deal,” I said, blowing out a deep breath. “The Lord wants me to go on TV, radio, to churches, and wherever He opens the door to defend Dylan’s stand and plead his cause.”
“What a great idea!” proclaimed Shira.
“Not really because I hate public speaking. I just can’t do it!”
Shira moved over next to me and put her arm around me. The gentle scent of her Estée Lauder perfume cajoled my emotions, calming me down a notch or two on my inner Richter scale.
“Jane, what’s the worse that could happen?” she asked.
“I might fail.”
“Really? The Lord would put Dylan’s future into your hands so He could watch you fail. How would that advance the kingdom of God?”
Although still sweet, a different side of Shira emerged at that moment: the exhorter. She had her periscope up, torpedo tubes loaded, and I was in her crosshairs.
“Okay, maybe I won’t fail, but I will most certainly make a fool of myself.”
The words skated past my brain and out my mouth before I could filter them. Shira looked into my eyes and grinned.
“Ah, at last, the truth.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“My answer didn’t sound very good, right?”
Shira shook her head. “No, darling.”
I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay, do either of you know how I can carry out this assignment from the Lord?”
“Hobart Effingham III,” said J. C., pulling his iPhone out of his pocket.
“Hobart Effingham? What’s that?”
“Effingham is a Christian businessman who happens to be the president of the largest public relations firm in San Francisco. A few phone calls by him will land you on the top-rated TV and radio programs in the area. As for churches, I can make some contacts to help you.”
Okay Lord, I thought, here I am. Use me.
(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)
(Continued in Part 16…the full series to date can be read here.)