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“...What is this?”
Rod’s daughter tilted her head at him, smiling a bit. She had just handed him something he… well, he wasn’t expecting it in the slightest. “It’s a candle, Rod.”
He threw his hands up. “I-I know that! Why? I mean why is it… I mean, are you giving me a candle?” He placed it down on her counter with a thunk, narrowing his eyes at it a bit. The burnt orange thing looked… citrussy. Or maybe it smelled like pumpkin. God, he hoped not! The last thing he needed was his house to smell like that devilish fruit.
“I thought your house could use some… decoration. That’s all.”
“It doesn't match with anything in my house,” he pointed out.
“Dad, your clothes don’t even match properly,” Stephanie said, and before he could interject she went on. “And not to make judgements here or anything, but there’s not much to match with in your house to begin with…”
Rod crossed his arms. “That sure sounds judgy to me. And you’re not even a Christian!” She rolled her eyes. “Anyhow– I’ve got plenty of decoration in my house. More than enough, really.”
“I don’t know, Dad. A few ornamental plants don’t seem like much of a commitment,” she noted, though she was still smiling. “Don’t you want to… branch out?”
“I’ve done plenty of ‘branching out,’ thank you very much!” He traced the lid of the candle absentmindedly. “And I think trying that Oriental food last week was enough commitment for me.”
He wasn’t sure why, but she frowned for a moment. “Rod, that’s… whatever. Take it, please? You’d be doing me a favor, getting it off my hands. I prefer incense anyway.”
“That Buddhist stuff?!” he gawked. Putty grabbed the candle quickly. “I guess I’ll consider myself lucky you didn’t try to give me that instead. Big Guy upstairs wouldn’t want me dabbling in it, no ma’am.” He ignored her good-natured eye roll and reached for his hat.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I don’t mean to be rude, I just–”
“You’re not used to it,” she said, waving his apology off. “It’s fine. Just take the damn candle!” She laughed.”You make it out like it’s a punishment.”
He grinned awkwardly, straightening out his coat a bit, with the candle cradled oddly in the crook of his arm. “I do appreciate it, kid. Really. Thank you.”
“I think you’ll appreciate it more if you use it,” Stephanie pointed out good naturedly, “but it’s up to you. Just an idea.”
“We’ll see,” he gave in, shaking his head a bit. Looking at her, he still felt bad for his initial reaction, but oh well. “...Bye, Steph.”
“Bye, Dad.”
She waved him out the door with a smile.
***
That was… weird.
He reflected on it all the way back to his house, barely thinking about the road in front of him (a bad habit, he knew– he had really ought to try and tamp his thoughts down). Was his house really that boring? He had things in it, sure– there were those plants that Stephanie had mentioned, though they were fake on account of he kept forgetting to water the real ones. That was a good bit of money wasted, for sure… but he also had nice furniture, a couch and table passed down from when his mother died (steering away from that gruesome thought, he told himself), and an AM radio. He even had one of those fancy electronic Bibles, the ones that read to you out loud, even though he never bothered to use it. That was all a man really needed, right? The essentials, a worldly pleasure or two?
He became increasingly bothered by the thought, pulling into his driveway with a frown etched onto his face, and walking into his house while staring at the candle like an enemy. The label said that it was sandalwood. He set it down on the table and looked around.
The couch. The table. His plants. A bookshelf.
Was that really all?
“You’re putting ideas into my head,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and flopping onto the couch. It sounded like he was talking to the candle, but no– that was ridiculous. Why did Stephanie have to get him the wretched thing? He didn’t want to think about it. Or of his supposed lack of bells and whistles. Nope. Not at all. Why should he care? He glared at the candle reproachfully. Then he rolled his eyes at himself.
I’m being stupid. He quickly decided to lock the darn thing in the closet and hopefully never think about it again. And that’s just what he did.
Except the not thinking about it part.
***
“...and God said to Moses; ‘your people down there are rotten! Go tell ‘em what’s what,’ et cetera, and then gave Moses the Ten Commandments to share with the world. I think there’s something about people eating gold somewhere in that story, but– whoo! Outta time, what a shame. Continued next week, or whatever... Uh, God be with you.”
He dawdled around his pulpit, pretending to shuffle his notes all together rather than ushering the congregation out of the doors as he usually did. The thought of being friendly with everyone today was exhausting, to say the least.
Another underwhelming sermon, another glassy-eyed congregation, another lame Sunday morning. He looked up from his pointless busywork just in time to see a boy clad in a blue suit limp up to the lectern.
“What are you doing here, Orel?” The Reverend asked bluntly. “I said, ‘God be with you.’ Amen.”
“Uh— and with you too, Reverend!” Orel replied, fidgeting with his notebook. “I just had a few thoughts about Moses, and the Ten Commandments, and God, and—“
“That’s great, kid,” Rod said without an ounce of conviction. He finally got a good hold on the papers he was pretending to shuffle around and tapped them against the lectern. “But I’m a little busy today.”
“Busy on a Sunday!” Orel gasped. “It must be really important, for you to be working extra on the Sabbath!” He scrawled something quickly in his pocket notebook.
“Yeah, well,” he began, thinking that Orel was going to have a bright future apart of the nag police, “Reverend work never stops. You think I spend even a moment outside the church not doing my job?”
“Well, sometimes you visit Miss Stephanie at her—“
“Okay, Orel!” Rod shushed him quickly, very aware of the few gossiping stragglers still inside. “Maybe I spend a few moments off duty. But now isn’t one of them. Go, catch up with your family— I’ve got some psalms to… fax.”
Orel’s face dropped a bit at the mention of his family, but he perked up again a moment after. “Oh— sure, Reverend! Maybe I’ll come back later.”
“Yeah, maybe you will,” Reverend muttered, waving goodbye as Orel chirped a farewell and limped out of the church. He wasn’t quite jazzed at the thought today.
He went to his office with the sermon held to his chest, grumbling a bit. Orel’s mention of Stephanie had reminded him even more of that stupid candle. And his stupid, boring home. Looking at his office, he noticed that it was fairly more decorated than his house — he had a few novelty coffee cups, an award or two, things he’d gotten as a man of the cloth over the years. He had used to have some animal knick knacks, but had thrown them out last Easter. All in all, it was more full, but still… empty. He didn’t like his office much anyway, but the thought made him bristle even more.
He sat down with a sigh. What the Hell was wrong with him? He had to get this out of his head… he picked up the newspaper he’d set on his desk before service and, skipping over the boring small-town news, went straight for the sudoku page. He could make coffee, but he was already sinking down into his chair and getting comfortable. It could wait, he thought, as he puzzled over the paper.
It was late afternoon by the time Orel came by, and Rod was finally nursing that coffee. He silently groaned at the sound of his knock, putting down his mug but keeping his eyes fixed on the paper. He’d long completed the sudoku, and even the word jumble– now he was stuck on the crossword. Orel poked his head in.
“Seven down, five letters. Second wife to a Biblical hero. Shoot.”
“Huh?”
“I’m doing the crossword, kid, help me out! The third letter is ‘G,’ if that helps you at all.”
Orel thought for a moment, looking confused. “Uh– I think it’s Hagar, Reverend Putty, though I don’t think she was ever really married to Abraham…”
Rod penned the answer down, noting that it fit perfectly. “Figures,” he snorted. “They don’t make crosswords like they used to– they always have something wrong with them. What’s up?” He finally put the newspaper down, focusing his attention on Orel. “What’s on your mind?”
He stepped forward, though Rod felt pressingly self-concious over the lack of decor. The last person on Earth who’s gonna care is Orel! He reminded himself, and sat up with more attention to the kid.
“Reverend Putty, I had a few questions about today’s sermon…” Orel started, and began a tirade about Moses’ escapades through the Middle East. Rod let him talk, zoning in and out as he thought about his lame home. He checked back in as Orel finally got to his question.
“…and I was wondering, why did Moses have to have the original Ten Commandments engraved in stone in the first place? Didn’t the Israelites trust him enough to take his word for it?”
Rod waved Orel off, as though this were a minor question with a simple answer. “No, it’s not that… of course they trusted him! Outside of their complaining about their lack of food, or water, or shelter, they respected Moses plenty, believe you me. That guy was like God to them! Sheesh. No, Moses had them engraved for a different reason.” His mind began to wander.
“So… why?”
“Well…” Putty fumbled for a moment, thinking hard about two things at once. “I guess… I guess the look of two mighty stone tablets would look good on Moses’ mantle. So to speak.” Orel looked confused, so he continued on. “Y’know— they serve as a reminder, not only to Moses but to every follower of God, that things can look good, or be technically unnecessary, but still serve a good purpose. Maybe it is aesthetic, or just nice to look at, and to have and hold and even be able to break… it’s a reminder of the good that we can receive… and appreciate… even if it looks stupid and smells like old burnt wood…” He trailed off. He was really mixing metaphors here.
Orel nodded slowly, as though he was trying to understand. He shifted his weight to his bad leg briefly, unconsciously, and began to ask another wheedling question. “So, what does that—“
He buried his chin in his crossed arms, the thought of totally messing up another answer sapping the last bit of his energy. He sighed. “…I’m all Rev-ved out for today,” he interrupted Orel, too blue to even apologize. “You should go run on home.”
***
“How’s that candle working out for you, Revs?” Stephanie greeted him as he sheepishly shuffled into her shop on Monday morning.
He rolled his eyes, thinking that that was the last question he wanted to be asked at the moment. “Oh, just great, Steph,” he grumbled. “Really helping me get in the ‘groove.’” He sidled up to the counter with a sullen expression.
“Is that… slang?” Her eyes twinkled, though her smile was hesitant. “You must be miffed. What’s up?”
He groaned, though he relaxed his posture. He didn’t want Stephanie to think that he was mad at her. “Nothing, I just…” he paused, unsure of how to phrase it. “…Am I boring?” he blurted.
She hesitated for a millisecond too long, and Rod felt like crap for it. “No,” she said at last. “Why?”
“That damn candle,” he sighed. “And my house. I didn’t realize how… empty it is! How drab… how damn boring. That candle’s screwing everything up, I tell you. I didn’t have a care in the world before you gave me that thing– I didn’t think about it at all!”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” she offered, absentmindedly rearranging some of her stock. “If it gets you out of your comfort zone a little…”
Bleh, Rod thought, frowning. The comfort zone was comfortable for a reason, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to be thrust out of it! “I’ve never even decorated anything!” he protested. “Well, cakes and cookies, sure– but I don’t think I want frosting or sprinkles anywhere in or on my house. Where do I start? I’m flailing in the dark, here!”
“Well…” Stephanie looked a little smug, like she was about to make either a good point or a good joke. It turned out to be a bit of both. “What do you do when you’re in the dark?”
He frowned deeper. “...Light a damn candle.”
His smartass daughter hummed a bit as she continued to take inventory. “Well, there’s your answer,” she said. She turned around, toting around some garish ware from her shop. “What do you think of this? Think it’ll sell well?”
He winced, averting his gaze from the freaky item. “Not to middle aged men of the cloth, it won’t. Well… not to this old man of the cloth. I swear, you’re getting too comfortable around me with that stuff!”
“I’m still on the clock,” she pointed out, setting the garment aside and leaning with her arms crossed on the counter. “So until we find a time to hang out away from my 9-5, you get to be the judge of all the freaky, sinful crap I have the joy of selling.”
He scoffed, though it was more like a laugh. His daughter really was a card… and a joker, at that. “Fair enough,” he said. “Suppose that’s why you hardly ever go to church… scared I’ll force you to sing gospel?”
“Fat chance,” she guffawed. A thoughtful look came over her face as she paused. “That dumb candle’s really bothering you, huh?” She said at last.
“…Maybe,” he said, his jovial expression quickly melting away. “I just don’t get it. I felt fine before. But now everything just seems… boring.” He looked at her eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what’s wrong, or how to fix it, or even where to start.”
Her smile dropped, a look of sympathy on her face, and reached out to his arm in a comforting way. “Well… how about this,” she coaxed. “If you really want to start making a change… I know a few places you could try.”
That was how Rod had ended up at the Otherton Furnishing Touch the very next day.
***
“…I told them, ‘I want to branch out,’” he relayed over the phone to Stephanie. He was recording all of the expenses he’d made over the past few days at the same time, thoughtfully twirling a pencil around in his hands. “And I was thinking, ‘Hey, surely they can’t know exactly what I want,’ but Steph, they had everything! Dishes, figurines, coffee cups, paint—“
“Well, I should hope you’re not painting your whole house over,” her amused tone crackled from the receiver.
“No, no,” he conceded, waving his hand, though his daughter couldn’t see him. “That’d kill my back, no doubt about that. No— I’ve just gotten a few… creature comforts.” He glanced at the shopping bags settled up next to his soon-to-be not bland couch.
“Well, I’d love to see them,” Stephanie hinted not so subtly— her voice, as even as ever, only betrayed the slightest hint of her excitement. “I gotta admit, I wasn’t sure if you’d commit this far.”
He rolled his eyes and adjusted the phone as he wrote down the price of a set of fun coasters he had spotted at the decor store. “Well I did, and I am. How’s Monday?”
“Hm?”
“To come over! Can you make it Monday, say, six? That’s out of your nine to five.”
She laughed for a second. “That sounds perfect,” Stephanie agreed. “I’ll be there.”
“Alright. I’ll make dinner.”
“Okay,” she paused for a moment. “Hey, Rod?”
“Mhm?”
“It’s really neat to see you kind of excited about something,” she admitted. “That’s all.”
He was oddly touched by this admission, though he hadn’t expected it in the slightest.
“Well… it was about time,” he responded at last, shuffling the handset once again. “Saturday. Six. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t, Dad.”
“…Love you. Bye.”
Click!
***
Rod adjusted his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles in his sweater. Though he wasn’t dressed any differently than he usually was (next step in this whole process: refining my wardrobe, he noted), he still felt some kind of pressure to look semi-decent. Glancing around the front room to make sure that nothing was out of place, he shuffled to the door at the sound of a knock.
“Stephanie!” He greeted before he had opened the door all the way.
“And Orel,” she smiled, scooting to the side a bit to reveal the boy looking absolutely pleased to be there. He rocked excitedly back and forth with his hands behind his back, grinning.
“Hiya, Reverend!” He beamed. He looked happier than Rod had seen him in a while. The sight made him smile.
“Orel,” he greeted, though he gave a friendly side eye to his daughter. Orel rushed ahead of Stephanie, beaming again at Rod before limping inside. “Uh… yep. Come in!” He leaned closer to Stephanie, keeping his voice low but friendly. “I was only expecting you…”
“Well, I mentioned our little get together to him the other day.“ Of course you did, he thought humorously, registering Orel’s ooh’s and ahh’s from inside “He was stoked. I couldn’t not let him tag along.”
Rod nodded, smiling. “Well… the more the merrier, I guess.” He beckoned her inside.
Stephanie looked as surprised as he’d ever seen her. The Reverend fiddled with his hands self-consciously as she looked around the front room. His garish LED lightbulbs had been exchanged with ones with a warmer tone, giving the walls—and newly installed shelves with a few knick-knacks—a cozy, homey feel. His couch was the same, only for a new throw blanket which he thought was unnecessary, but appealing nonetheless. His table and low bookshelf, once completely devoid of personality, now had various knick-knacks of their own, sourced from his mothers’ old storage unit in Otherton. There were no less than three fall-colored candles adorning the space, with Stephanie’s lit on his couch table next to a vase of white roses. The room smelled strongly of sandalwood.
“Wow,” she laughed good-naturedly, taking it all in. “You weren’t kidding. It looks great!”
“Ahh, it’s nothing…” he sheepishly waved her off, suppressing a great big smile. “…you really think so?”
“Reverend!” Orel interrupted, shuffling over. “It’s so bright in here! I’d never think, after seeing your office, that your home would look like this!” He looked like he could barely contain his own smile. “I love it!”
He suddenly thrust something forward, a shoddily wrapped gift which he’d been holding behind his back. Rod took it tentatively, unsure. A jolt of shock went through him for a moment… the last time he had accepted a gift, it had gotten him into this whole mess. Even still, the sight of it made him feel warm, too.
“You… I…” Putty stuttered. Orel’s grin made him want to tear up, though he stayed stoic.
“Oh, crud, I knew I was forgetting something,” Stephanie grinned, and revealed one of her own, nestled under the crook of her arm and folded a bit more neatly. She gave it to Rod with a gentle smile. “It was Orel’s idea— the house-warming gifts. Even if this isn’t exactly a new house.”
Rod stared at them both for a second, at a loss for words and his stoic resolve crumbling by the second. With their silent urging, he unwrapped them both. From Orel, a hand-decorated cross, as good as any kid could make it, with a personality as big as the kid himself. From Stephanie, his daughter, a picture frame, and one of the few photos they’d taken together outside of her shop. They were both smiling: it was one of those moments which could never be recorded properly on camera or on film, but one which could be fondly reminisced any day of the week.
He sniffed, looking from the gifts to his two grinning guests, sweeter than tooth-rotting sugar.
“You two flatter me too much!” Rod complained finally, discreetly wiping at his eyes. Even with his words, as he looked at his gifts, and at his own handiwork, he couldn’t help but feel a glint of pride, as sinful as that might be…
And joy. He felt… joy. Huh. That sure was weird.
“C’mon,” he beckoned them to the kitchen, smiling warmly all the while. “We can talk about all the wonderful things I’ve done with the place over dinner.”
FIN