Page 37 of Love Unscripted
She grabbed her bag and keys.
She was going to church.
Aaron’s church.
~*~*~*~
Aaron greeted another crew member, Mike, with a smile and a quick bro hug, his eyes flicking instinctively up the aisle where Madison played with two other children.
Satisfied that she was fine, he and Mike chatted for a couple minutes before Mike found a seat next to Carl, another member of the crew. Carl was also a good friend. For Aaron he was a go-to camera man. They had worked together on every one of his films.
There were about eight members of the cast and crew there that Sunday if you counted himself. It varied from Sunday to Sunday. Sometimes it was a few more or a few less. Regardless, he was grateful to God for allowing him to use his influence with the crew to evangelize in this way. He didn’t think the offer of a big buffet lunch at his house immediately after hurt either and again he thanked God that he had the means to do that.
He turned to return to his seat—
—and froze.
For a moment, he thought he was mistaken.
Camille stood near the aisle, a vision in green.
She looked beautiful. Feminine. The dress was modest—long sleeves, calf-length hem—but nothing about it was dull. It skimmed her figure gracefully, elegant and refined. When she met his eyes, she hesitated, then smiled—soft, almost shy.
She walked straight toward him. “Good morning.”
“I didn’t expect to see you,” he said honestly. “I thought you had a home church.”
“I do,” she replied lightly. “But I like to visit others sometimes. See how other people do things.”
He smiled. “Well, I hope our style suits you.”
“Do you mind if I sit next to you?”
Did he mind? Not at all.
He stepped into the aisle. “Please.”
“I should warn you,” he added as they sat, “my daughter Madison will be joining us. She doesn’t sit still.”
“Your daughter,” she started searching the room with her eyes. “Let me guess, she’s the one over there in the pink and white dress.”
Aaron realized she was speaking about a little girl with black hair who looked to be about 4, Madison’s age.
He grinned. “No, she might look like she’s my kid but she’s not.” He pointed. “That’s Madison. The one with the blond curls in the yellow dress.”
“You mean gold dress.”
“No, I mean yellow.”
“Oh my! She’s gorgeous!”
“Yeah. She is the spitting image of her mother.”
“Your late wife,” Camille said softly.
“Yes,” he said. Not willing to talk about what happened to Scarlette, he quickly changed the subject. “So what do you like most about your church?”
She answered thoughtfully. “A few things. It’s very near to home, like five minutes away. I have built up a friend group there and they have accepted me without judgment.”
