“Excuse me, Linda, but I’m very familiar with the Bible, and I’m curious to know where it says that God hates homosexuals.”
“It says it in the story about Sodom and Gomorrah,” Linda replied smugly.
“I’m familiar with Sodom and Gomorrah, but I have not found anything that said God hates people. It does say that he hates sin, and the people in those cities were committing all sorts of sins.
However, I am still curious as to where you have found it to say that God hates homosexuals.” The older woman continued in a polite, soft-spoken manner. “Since you are quoting what you say is in the Bible, can you tell me what Christ himself said about sin?”
When Linda failed to answer, the woman began again. “The Bible says all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
Translated, it means we’ve all goofed up. Not one of us is without blemish, including you, Linda. I would suggest you study the Bible a little more intently before you preach any more sermons. If you continue to twist His words to suit your liking, you may find yourself suffering His wrath.”
Linda’s face had turned beet red, and she turned and stamped out of the galley. The older woman smiled at Claire, then went back to her breakfast.
“Thank you for stepping in. I was probably about to say some things I shouldn’t have.”
“God does not hate anyone. Don’t ever let anyone make you believe that. He loves each one of us, and we all have a purpose for being here. Give Him a chance, and He will show you what yours is. Sometimes, He puts you in the path of just one person, and you and that person are changed forever.
“I was changed forever when my nephew committed suicide. He was gay. According to the note he left, he had struggled with it for years alone. When he finally decided to confide in his brother, the secret spread through the family like wildfire. My sister became enraged.”
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The older woman paused for a moment to gather her emotions. “I was never really sure why my sister reacted the way she did. If she were worried about his eternal soul, I would have thought she would have handled things differently. Deep down inside, I admitted to myself that she was simply embarrassed.”
The woman sighed. “Bless his poor heart. His last words were scribbled on a scrap of paper. He said if God hated him, what hope did he have? He blew his brains out and put an end to his twenty-three-year life. Had someone stepped in and told him the truth, he might still be with us today.”
Claire was at a loss for words as tears glistened in her eyes.
“Thank you for sharing that with me. I’ll never forget it.”
“I’m glad you allowed me to share it.” The older woman patted Claire on the shoulder and left the room. Claire was so intent on listening to what the woman had to say that she neglected to get her name, but she was glad the woman spoke up when she did or Linda may have found herself suffering Claire’s wrath.
When Claire made it to the third-floor office, the phones were ringing off the hook. The crew coordinators were answering calls and sending their requests for travel arrangements by email to Claire’s department. Her meeting in the galley had caused her to run a little late. She went into her office and quickly got set up to help her agents.
Claire glanced into Tristan’s office through the glass wall that separated them. Tristan was busy on the phone and was typing on her computer. As Claire waited for her own computer to boot up, she continued to watch Tristan answer one phone line after the other. She was catching the overflow from the crew coordinators.
Claire appreciated that Tristan worked with her people and shared their load when they were busy. Ellen was right when she said Tristan was an excellent boss.
Just before lunch, Cam dropped in and invited Tristan and Claire’s staff to a crawfish boil at the fleet. Claire was thrilled at the prospect of finally getting real Louisiana mudbugs. When the lunch hour arrived, the entire department made a beeline for the fleet.
Tristan sat next to Claire and showed her how to peel the meat away from the small crustaceans. “Only eat the ones with curled tails. If their tails are straight, throw them in the trash. When the 161
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tail is straight, it means it was dead before it went into the boil and is not any good.”
Claire did as she was instructed, carefully peeling each tail and watching Tristan as she skillfully peeled and ate twice as many.
Claire glanced across the table at Mike and was disgusted by his technique. After he ate each tail, he would suck the head of the creature before throwing it into the trash.
When he caught Claire watching him with a look of revulsion, he smiled and asked, “What’s wrong, Claire? You don’t suck heads?”
Tristan’s head snapped up, and she glared at Mike. He smiled maliciously as he stuffed another crawfish head in his mouth and sucked the juice from it. “Obviously, Tristan doesn’t know what’s good.”
“I have no desire to learn to suck heads, Mike. I’ll leave that up to you since you seem to be quite skilled at it yourself. Since you’re not a Louisiana native, I can only assume that someone spent some time training you how to do it,” Claire shot back, knowing she was walking a fine line and dangerously close to stooping to Mike’s level.
A huge grin made its way across Tristan’s face as the rest of the table laughed and chided Mike. Claire had beaten him at his own game. Mike ate the rest of his lunch in silence, occasionally glancing at Tristan with a scowl.
“So, Claire, how do you like living in Cajun country?” Allen, one of the fleet dispatchers, asked.
“I like it. It’s not much different from Houston. The climate is the same, and the food is just as spicy. I’m really enjoying learning all about Louisiana and its culture, and Tristan has been kind enough to take me under her wing and show me around.”
“Oh, Tris, you should take her out on one of those swamp tours and let her see some of the sights,” Allen said.
“I’ve always wanted to do that, Claire. Why don’t you and I go sometime?” Mike asked, breaking into the conversation while looking at Tristan.
Sensing the tension between Mike and Tristan, Allen tried to keep the situation from escalating. “Mike, how about we go sometime? Matter of fact, I have my own boat. We can do our own tour and maybe get to fish a little.”
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Mike stared at a smirking Tristan for a moment before directing his attention to Allen. “That sounds great, man. Give me a call at the office, and we’ll make plans. I’ll even buy the beer.”
Tristan continued to smirk, but what she really wanted to do was stomp a mud hole in Mike’s ass. She was livid that Mike would actually put Claire on the spot like that in front of a group of people. He was much too pushy, and Tristan decided then that she would have a chat with Mike alone.
Several of the boats were tied off at the landing barge, and Tristan took Claire down to meet some of the crews. Mike and Lauren accompanied them since neither had ever been on any of the vessels. As Claire talked with one of the captains, Tristan watched Mike out of the corner of her eye. He studied Claire from head to toe, barely able to take his eyes off her. When he glanced over at Tristan, Mike realized that he had been caught staring.
Their eyes locked, silently challenging one another until Tristan’s cell phone rang.
She stepped onto the stern of the boat to finish her call and lit up a cigarette as she listened to the caller drone on about a medical release for one of the deckhands. A few minutes later, she snapped the phone closed and turned to go back into the galley. It was then that she came face-to-face with Mike.