Two Tables- A Short Story (Part Two)

For being a perfect stranger, Wren had never been gladder to see the husband and wife walk in on Christmas eve and be seated in the tables she was assigned to. He looked frail and walked a bit slower but seemed healthy. She looked concerned but still was smiling brightly as if the world was all fine and dandy for her. Wren dropped off the tray she was carrying and rushed directly to their table. 

"Hey! How are you feeling?" 

He sighed. "Like I'll die if I have to eat another plate of hospital food, never mind my ticker." He chuckled and picked up the menu.

"Sam, remember..." His wife ticked the menu down with her finger. "The diet." 

"Yes, I remember." He sighed. "I'll take the chicken salad, no dressing, with water." 

Wren smiled and scribbled it down. 

His wife looked over her menu. "Pulled pork sandwich with macaroni and baked beans, and sweet tea, please." 

Wren wrote it down. "Your daughters didn't get to come this time?" 

"They're both at the church helping with the homeless dinner. I'd have been there but I got told standing for that many hours and trying to lift heavy boxes and pots would be too much of a strain, so they sent us to get something to eat until they finished." The man said. 

"That's nice of them." Wren looked towards the kitchen. "Let me go drop this off and your food should be on the way soon." 

It was difficult to keep from going over and checking on them every few minutes. Wren had to remind herself more than once she had other customers, and that with closing coming earlier than usual, everyone wanted to get done as soon as possible, and that meant she didn't have time to socialize. Annoying though it was, she counted off three different versions of Rocking Around The Christmas Tree before she finally couldn't stand it any longer and went back again.

"Everything going okay?" She asked, hoping they wouldn't think she was just wanting a generous tip again.

"Oh, yes, thanks." The wife said, setting her fork down. "I couldn't eat another bite." 

"I could." The husband sighed, looking at the other half of the sandwich left untouched. "I didn't realize how much I would miss BBQ sauce." 

Wren picked up the plate, although it wasn't custom to clear the table until the guests left. "I'll remove temptation for you." She chuckled, balancing the plate carefully so she could take their ticket from her pocket. "Need to-go cups?" 

"I think we're good this time, we're heading home for hot chocolate." The woman gave her husband a grin. "Low fat, sugar free hot chocolate." 

His groan was most pathetic. 

The wife looked back up at Wren. "No more bad customers have come in, I hope?" 

Wren shrugged. "Eh, the testy ones will always be there, but none that have threatened my job."

Deep in the back of her mind, a tiny voice was screaming that Wren bring up Christmas, or even bring up God, but she bit her tongue. 

"Well," She let out a deep breath, "Enjoy your Christmas and have a safe drive home." 

"Be careful on those roads, and I hope you get to enjoy your day off tomorrow." The wife said, her husband nodding his agreement. 

A day off. That was the extent of her reason to enjoy the day. Somehow it seemed suddenly empty and lacking in desirability. Wren's face must have expressed some of the displeasure at the thought of spending an entire day just sitting around. 

"Do you have any family in the area you might go see while you've got the day off, even if it isn't for Christmas?" The husband asked.

"Uh, no, not really. Mom's gone, and my dad's been gone longer than that. My brother is up in Wisconsin, and all my cousins are in Vermont. I'll probably just watch some movies or do laundry." Wren forced a smile. 

Did she see the wife nudge his leg under the table? Wren couldn't swear to it, but it looked like he had just got a swift kick to the shin. 

"Well, if you change your mind, and you don't mind helping with volunteer work despite it being in the name of Christmas, our church is going to the children's hospital to hand out Christmas gifts around noon. You don't have to participate in anything religious or Christmas-related other than making a few kids happy." The man grinned.

"But only if you want to." The wife added, with a knowing smile. 

She did. Kind of. Wren wasn't against volunteer work, even if it was through a church. She might not believe in God, but she did believe in kindness. "I might stop by. What time?" 

"We'll leave the church around ten and should be back before lunch." The husband said. 

"Where's the church?" 

He reached in his pocket and withdrew a piece of paper and pen, scribbled down the address and handed the paper to her. 

"Again," The wife added, "Only if you want to." 

Wren looked at the paper. "Yeah, I kind of do. You can't say no to making kids happy, you know? But I don't have to stick around for any religious stuff, right?"

"No, not at all." The husband smiled. "By the way, we've never introduced ourselves to you. I'm Pastor Sam and this is my wife, Abbie." 

Wren frowned. "A pastor who doesn't push his religion is a new one for me." She reached down to shake his hand. "I'm Wren." 

Wren had never stepped foot in a church, to her knowledge. Her mother was an atheist, her father was loosely Buddhist, so she knew they had never taken her to church as a kid. Once she reached adulthood, she chose to believe that all Christians were bent on screaming in her face how horrible of a person she was, and how they were the only ones who could offer a way to avoid hell, and therefore she had no interest in church.

But pulling up to this church, she didn't get the feeling that she was about to be screamed at and lectured for hours on end. The few people loading up bags of wrapped boxes were laughing and looked awful happy- too happy to be so stern and cold.

Wren parked on the far side of the parking lot, hoping that doing so would mean she could get out quickly without being boxed in by other cars. She was more than a little hesitant to walk over until she saw Abbie.

"Wren! I'm glad you decided to come." Abbie said, waving her over. "We're almost done then we'll drive on up to Macon to the children's hospital." 

"Okay, so I can just take my car?" Wren asked, looking at the van bearing the church's name, where several people were already sitting. 

"Or ride along with someone. It's up to you."

I'll only ride along with you or Sam, Wren thought with a smile. "Ah, well..." 

"Sam and I are driving the van." Abbie nodded towards it. "Our girls are riding in it, along with some of our other young adults. Mitch and Shanon are following in their car."

"I'll hop a ride in the van then, if you don't mind." 

Abbie waved a hand at the van. "Go on and get in, we're almost done and it's too cold to stand out here." 

Wren paused, wondering how well she'd be received in the van. In her ripped jeans and sweatshirt bearing her favorite dwarf's face, she couldn't imagine she'd not be stared at. She didn't have the chance to hesitate for long, one of Sam and Abbie's daughters saw her and waved. 

"Hey, Mom said you might come along!" She stuck her head out of the van and grinned. "You can squeeze in between Laurie and me, we don't bite." 

Swallowing the tiny quivering of nervousness, Wren followed orders and found herself between the two young women, who were quite engaged in conversation with the other girl and two guys behind them.

"Hey, pay attention for a second! This is Wren." Laurie said, thumping her sister's arm to quiet her for a second. "Wren, this is Teira, Luke, and Fritz. You know Sara and me, although probably not our names." 

Wren smiled at them over the back of the seat. "Hi." 

They returned her greeting quietly, though they didn't appear to be unfriendly in the least. 

Sara took a deep breath. "So.... we'll go ahead and address the elephant in the room, because if I were to wager, I'd say Wren's already thought of it a million times. No, Wren doesn't do Christmas, and no, she doesn't want to hear our opinions about it." She shrugged. "No big deal, I don't do Valentine's Day." 

"Because you don't have a boyfriend." Teira chuckled. "But seriously, I can understand that, Wren." 

Not exactly what Wren was expecting, but she could appreciate their blunt approach. 

"Fritz celebrates Christmas but doesn't ever have a Christmas tree, and Luke doesn't believe in celebrating Christmas on December 25th, but when he feels like is closer to when Christ might have been born." Teira went on. "I celebrate Christmas but don't give gifts, other than to the kids at the hospital. So, if you don't celebrate at all, it doesn't bother us. We don't want you sweating it." 

"Thanks." Wren wrinkled her nose. "And the fact that I'm an atheist...?" 

"Well, again," Luke shrugged, "We might not agree, but it doesn't mean there's a brick wall between you and us." 

"First Sam, now all of you. You're the first Christians I've come across that aren't desperate to convert me." 

"Oh, no, they're gonna try, but they won't be pushy and they won't force you to do anything you don't want to do." Laurie said, smiling but quite serious. "It comes with the territory. But again, not going to push it."

"At least you're honest." Wren laughed, buckling in. "I appreciate that much."

Hard as it was to see kids suffering and sick, Wren enjoyed the two hours with Sam and Abbie's church group handing out gifts. They took a much kinder, compassionate approach than she had ever seen someone take. 

Granted, it was easy to be nice to kids, but they weren't just kind to the kids. The teenagers, the parents and relatives... Sam, Abbie and their group acted like they genuinely cared about these strangers. With each robot building kit or fashion doll they handed out, much more kindness went out to the entire family than was wrapped in those boxes. 

She saw moms tearfully hugging Abbie and dads manfully trying to stifle tears as they thanked Sam. Laurie and Sara, clad in bright masks, gave gentle hugs to the little girls as they cried happy tears over what might have been the only gifts they would get, and watched Luke and Fritz enthusing over the boys' gifts with them energetically. 

Wren hung back, happy to carry the boxes and bags with Mitch and Shanon, and watching the scenes play out. These people didn't care one iota about the backgrounds or beliefs of these families, but they did care about them. They cared about these kids, their moms and dads, and about making sure they had a good day, and that was it. There was no pushing religion, there was no lecturing about God's input in what was going on. Only once did she hear Sam mention their church, and only because one of the dads asked what church they came from. 

It was... different. Confusing. These weren't the loud, obnoxious Christians Wren was used to dealing with. They weren't mean and cold and stern. They cared. 

They cared.

Wren smiled wryly. That seemed to be the big difference. Sam and Abbie cared about people. Whether or not it was because they were kind people or their God told them to, there was no doubting they cared. She didn't understand why- after all strangers they would never probably see again would have no impact on their lives- but she admired it. They were the first church people she could find worth being around. 

By the time they drove back to the church, Wren's feet ached just the same as they would after a shift, and her back ached from carrying bags much heavier than her tray, and she knew that she'd appreciate kicking off her sneakers and napping all the rest of the day. 

Abbie drew her into a cautious hug as they dispersed in the parking lot. 

"Thanks for helping, Wren. We really appreciated you being there." 

Wren nodded. "I had fun. It felt good to help out." 

"Usually does." Sam chuckled. "We tend to feel better about ourselves when we're helping someone else." 

"It was just nice to finally see some church people who didn't need to shove their beliefs down everyone's throats. Nice to know there are some people who can let people live and have their own beliefs even if they don't agree." Wren said, looking towards her car. "I'd better get going."

"Wren," Sam wrapped an arm around his wife and smiled, "If you don't have plans today, do you want to come over and eat dinner with the girls and us? It won't be a big affair, but we always have extra seats at the table." 

"If you want to," Abbie added.

She couldn't help but admit, she did want to. "With no commitment to converting required?" Wren asked.

"None whatsoever, though we would be lying if we said we wouldn't like it if you did. It's part of our job." Sam chuckled. 

"I don't plan on it, but I don't mind listening if you have something you can say worth explaining why I ought to." Wren said, smiling. "You're the first pastor-"

Sam held up a hand. "-Not to push religion. I know. I'm not going to push religion, but I won't hide the fact that there is a God and He does love you, Wren." 

She took a moment to get ready, to prepare for the sermon about to come out of his mouth, but Wren found that neither Sam nor Abbie said one more word. 

They were different, weren't they? 

If anyone would be able to convince her that God cared enough about her to want her to avoid Hell and gain Heaven, Wren was pretty sure that Sam and Abbie, with their kindness and genuine concern for her, would be the ones who could- and it was quite a few more dinners shared at their table, and a few times more of Wren waiting on their table, that they did.