Elijah Temple is the kind of name you expect a very religious guy to have. Eli sounds like he should be a pastor, or maybe even a dad who carries the offering trays at church, or in the very least, a nice guy. When my parents gifted me with my name, they clearly had a particular vision of how my life would turn out. My mother told me the stories of Elijah, the biblical prophet who was my namesake, a hundred times. He was a pious man, so pious in fact that he defeated false Gods and heard God in a whisper after a hurricane. Well, I am not that kind of guy, so I guess I don't exactly live up to my name. These days I go buy Eli, and I am a twenty-six year old used car salesmen who has a lot of money and no scruples. I don't have a wife, and I never go church. Well, I didn't, not until my Nana guilted me into it. And even then, I was much more interested in the leggy brunette than the spiritual discovery, but I am getting ahead of myself.

                It all started with a Honda Pilot and a single mom, as most stories do. She came into the lot I work at, Ray's Used Cars, with her two rambunctious boys in tow. She looked smart enough, with a sleek business suit and slicked back hair, but I knew better. I don't know how to explain it, but I have an instinct for picking out the ignorant customers. I could almost articulate it, a certain type of shoes or purse they wore, and I could probably squeeze some extra dollar signs out them. Certain hair types and overall demeanors told me that certain women didn't know anything about cars, and I could push a clunker into their arms. This woman's general appearance screamed I've never bought a car, and don't know what I am doing. I had a perfect car, which was overall in good condition. But I knew that the catalytic converter would need to be repaired within two months, easily knocking down the value of the car. But what the single mom didn't know wasn't my problem.

"Hello," I said, approaching her. 

She was a good ten years older than me, but she certainly didn't hurt my eyes to look at. I could date a milf, I thought idly. And flirting never hurt my sales records. 

"Hey," She said. "I am Sandra, and I need a minivan with good gas mileage."

                So I showed her the Pilot, and she loved it. The boys got in the backseat, kicking up their feet. I flirted with her, just a tad bit, on the test drive. What can I say? I honestly like women. An hour later,  I had her signing the loan papers. Not only that, but I got her phone number too. Did I care that she would be too broke to fix her brand new car when it went out in a month or two? Nope. I would be out of her life by then, even if I did figure out how to get in her pants. But I got a hefty commission and that was realistically the only thing I gave a shit about. That, and my family. My mother called me that night, and I picked up reluctantly.

"Hey honey," she said. "How are you?"

"Good, I made a big sale today," I said.

"Oh great honey," she said. "I was worried you'd be sad. You know, with today and all."

"What is today?" I asked. 

I almost literally face palmed when I spoke, remembering the date. It was my grandfather's birthday, my dead grandfather. I had forgotten papa's birthday. 

"I almost forgot," I said. "God, I am awful."

                "No, honey, you've healed. It's good, Elijah. Grandpa would be so proud of you baby."

We talked for a while, but somehow, the words dug at me. Grandpa would be pissed at me, flaming anger raining down from heaven. Not that I believed in heaven, but still. I thought about the mom from today, and I knew what I had to do. If grandpa saw me in my everyday life, he'd be disappointed. 

"Hey mom, I have to go," I said.

"Sure honey," My mother said. "Do you have a date?"

"Something like that," I said.

"Don't forget nana's birthday is tomorrow."

"I won't mom, I promise."

***

                 I waited at the coffee shop until 9:30. Luckily, it was one of those that stayed open all night and served wine and ale. Apparently, that was a trend these days. When the bell chimed, I saw Sandra walking in, wearing a short skirt and boots, catching my eye. Lord have mercy, I thought as I started to salivate. How this tiny woman had given birth to those kids was beyond me.

"Hey handsome," she said, sitting. "I was so surprised you called. I guess I am a cougar now."

My body wanted to respond to the way she looked and her overall appeal, but I was on a mission. A mission to convince myself I wasn't a total piece of shit.

"Listen, Sandra," I said. "I would love to date you or whatever, but we need to talk..."

"Oh I get it," she said. "You want to have the whole 'let's keep it casual talk.' You just assume because I have kids, I want a new husband. Is that it?"

"No, I didn't think that," I replied. "Now, I kind of do... I have to tell you something. I don't think you'll like me very much after all."

                "Oh," she said. "Is this about the car? I knew it was too good to be true..."

"Yes," I said. "I mean, it's a good car. I just, I should have told you it will need a repair, soon. But I didn't. Do you know what a catalytic converter is?"

"No," she whispered.

"I guessed that, god, I am a douche," I said. "But I'll make it better."

"How? I own that car now, and I don't have extra money for repairs with my new high interest loan, Eli."

"I know," I said. I pulled out an envelope full of hundreds. "Here. This is a thousand dollars. It will cover the repairs, easily. Now you don't have to worry; you can just enjoy your car."

"Why would you do that?"

"Maybe I don't want to see an asshole in the mirror every day," I said. "And you seem nice."

"So, you didn't really want to date me?"

"No," Eli said. "But if you don't hate me, I can have you back to my place in twenty minutes."

She just smirked and nodded, picking up her purse. Ok, so I was still a womanizer, but at least I was an honest one.

***

                "Nana, I am here," I said as I entered into the nursing home lobby. 

Mom and my sister, Hayley, were already there beside Nana. The woman was sitting in her wheelchair, smiling as if she didn't know was crippled and dying. My heart melted a little bit, and I smiled. I had a soft spot for that woman, for sure.

"Elijah," Nana said. "Come, sit with me."

"Sure," I said. I walked in and kissed my mom and sister, who were busy getting cupcakes prepared. I sat next to Nana, who looked beautiful, despite her age.

"Elijah, how is life?" She asked. "Your mother said you had a date last night. Are you thinking about settling down?"

"Oh, Nana, I don't know," I said. "It was nice. Honestly, I don't think she's the one."

She was more of a one night kind of girl. A very good night, but still. 

"Keep looking dear," she said. "You'll be a good husband someday."

                "Oh nana, you're too sweet," I said. "But between you, ma, and sis, I think I have enough women in my life. You three keep me busy."

"Well, you need something other than work, Eli."

I shrugged.

"Did you get the present?"

"The Ipack?" Nana replied.

"No, Nana, it's called an Ipad. It can take pictures and play music..."

"Dear, I can't even turn it on," she laughed. "I think you should keep it."

"What would I give you for your birthday then, Nana?"

                "I have an idea," she said. "I want you to say yes, and you can't deny me. I am old, and you know, my doctors don't think I'll be able to fight off the heart palpitations for long."

"Nana, don't say that..."

"Eli, I have made peace with my death; it's you I worry about."

"Nana, why would you worry about me?"

"You need more substance in your life Elijah. So, for my birthday, I want you to join the Christmas Bells Chorus."

"Excuse me..." I stammered.

The Christmas Bells Chorus was a group that performed every Christmas Eve at my grandmother's Baptist church. They were alright for a church choir, I supposed.  But the group had a total of two males, and a whole lot of sweater bearing and purity ring wearing church ladies. No thank you, ma'am.

"Grandma, I don't have time for that..."

"Please," Nana said. "It's my dying wish to see you up there, performing."

"Really, Nana, dying wish?"

"Just say yes," She prodded. 

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I was a sucker for the whole dying wish bit. 

"Fine, just once, I will sing in the freaking church choir."

                "Good boy," Nana said. "Who knows, maybe you'll meet your dream girl there."

I snorted in response, but little did I know she was right.

Chapter 2

                I arrived at the first Baptist church the next day, praying that whomever this choir director was would let me off easy. I waltzed into her office, prepared to shine my brightest smile and make her go weak in the news. Much to my surprise, the Kelly Taylor I'd been emailing was not a middle aged woman but a young man, possibly in his twenties. Oh great, I thought. I smiled at him and went into his office, feeling awkward.

"So you want to join the choir," Kelly said. "What part do you sing?"

"I don't sing."

"Then why do you want to join the choir?"

"I don't," I said with a chuckle.

"Then why are you here in my office?"

                "It's my nana," I said. "She has this heart condition, and it's pretty serious. Anyways, she constantly gets me to do things because it could be her dying wish. Seeing me perform on Christmas Eve with the bells is her newest request."

"Ah, so you're here from guilt," Kelly said. "Can you sing bass?"

"I can try," I said. "Or, you could just let me stand up there and lip sing on the day of the concert."

"This is a church, not a charity Mr. Temple. I am not going to help you deceive your grandmother. I think church would do you some good."

"How would you know," I said. "You don't know me."

"Aren't you the smooth talking salesman from Ray's car lot?" Kelly said. "You went out with my sister, Sandra."

"Sandra...right," I said quietly. "She was..."

"Good for a night, not for a life," Kelly said with a pointed glare. "You show up to every practice, or you don't perform. And I'll be keeping my eyes on you. I don't want you seducing innocent women from my flock."

"Flock, what are you, a sheep herder?"

                "I'll see you on Tuesday, Mr. Temple. Don't be late."

I went to leave, his eyes burning into my back. Boy, for a pastor, he sure had some deadly stares. From now on, I might have to vet out my one night stands a little better. Is your brother, father, or ex-husband in ministry, please check yes or no...

***

                Tuesday came too quickly. My boss was pushing us to get more and more sales, which required me to do some unsavory things. I never lied, I just omitted details frequently. With all of the stress at work, I hadn't taken Kelly's email advice to look over the sheet music. I mean, I glanced at it. Gibberish, it looks like gibberish. Sure, I saw words, but all of those notes supposedly had meaning. I had no clue. And the numbers, what was with the numbers on the front of lines? I was never a band geek, or even slightly musically inclined. I was rhythmically challenged enough to make clapping seem like a valiant feat. So, I was nervous about choir practice, to say the least.

                So when I got in there and a sea of women, all looking like what I would call the not sexy librarian types, I was thinking about looking like an idiot. I didn't even consider the praying. Oh, there would be praying. I sat down in a chair, and Kelly's eyes focused on me from the minute he walked into the room.

"What's your name?" asked a chubby blonde wearing a sweater and bulky jeans.

"Elijah," I said. "I'm sort of new here."

"I like that name," she said. "I'm Marsha, like from the Brady Bunch. You know, Marsha, Marsha, Marsha..."

"I think I'm a little young for that reference," I said, regretting my harsh tone. She looked like a kicked puppy. "But it's nice to meet you. Does your husband miss you when you're away?"

"Oh, I am not married."

"Not yet sweetheart," I said, winking. "Better be careful darling, I could use a trophy wife."

She giggled and I smiled back, glad to have a new friend. Kelly, however, remained unamused.

"ELI!" He hollered out at me.

                "Yes, Kelly," I said in my sweetest voice. Marsha sighed, cooing like a baby,

"Would you mind doing the opening prayer?" Kelly asked, grinning slightly.

"Oh. I don't really pray...out loud." It was almost honest.

"No pressure, just ask God to bless our practice."

"Sure," I said, gulping. 

What did it really matter? Religion was all hogwash anyway. We all stood and held hands, which I thought would make Marsha have a panic attack for sure. They all closed their eyes, and I took that as a cue to start praying. Or pretending to pray, I suppose.

"Hey there, God, It's Eli," I said, feeling dumber the more I spoke. "I just wanted to say hey, we're going to sing now. Help us hit the little notes and use those numbers, and feel really nice. And ummm, merry Christmas to everyone, and the father, the son...." I wasn't even using fluent sentences anymore. "And the spirit of the dove and the angels. All of that, Amen."

                "Amen," they all said, but they gave me looks. Kelly was chuckling, and I shook my head. I would never sleep with his sister again, that was for sure. We picked up the first song, the carol of the bells. For the most part, I was asked to make some bell sounds. There was one other male in the choir, a short balding man with an unfortunate affection for knitted sweaters. I could have sworn I was about to fall asleep or just fall over and die from boredom. And then it happened, the door swung open and in walked the woman of my dreams. She was a petite girl, maybe hitting five foot four with the right heels, with long black hair and bright green eyes. Floral and other tattoos crawled up her arms, but the ink had an edge of femininity to them. A light silver lip ring accented the pinkest lips I'd ever seen upon a perfectly plain face, free of makeup. So gorgeous. She wore a fluffy black skirt and a red sweater, which I was guessing was a bit too large based on her thin legs peeking out of the skirt. As the door slammed behind her, I realized I'd lost the ability to make my bell noises. I'd lost the ability to speak, think, or even close my damn mouth. My tongue got dry and I realized I was practically salivating at the sight of some girl. But what in the world was she, the punk princess who practically walked out of my fantasies, doing in a Baptist church.

                "Hey new guy," The bald man said to me. "Stop staring at the soprano. You look creepy."

"What soprano?"

"The raven haired girl with the lip ring," The bald guy pointed as he spoke. "Her name is Neveah; she's a soprano. Close your mouth, and try to act like a gentleman."

I closed my mouth, trying to tear my eyes away from the girl. Stop staring at the soprano. I shook my head and the song finished. The girl set her purse down by the door, glancing at me.

"You're late, Neveah," Kelly chided.

"Sorry," Neveah replied. "Who's the fresh blood? We got another bass, huh?"

She nodded at me, smiling. I was officially taken with her, the harmonic sound of her voice.

"Just take a seat, Neveah."

She rolled her eyes before gliding to the soprano section. Her clunky boots tapped against the floor and my eyes followed her.

                Kelly threw a piece of paper at me, and the other women giggled.

"Do you need to say something Romeo?" Kelly chided.

"No, nothing," I replied.

"Good, now everyone pull out your music. It's time to sing "Silent Night" and I expect everyone to stay on pitch. From the top!"

I tried to focus on the words and whatever the music codes meant, but secretly my eyes were trying to find reasons to look at her. Neveah. I caught her glancing at me with a set of curious eyes. We sang ten more songs, all carols, and then it was done. Solo auditions were apparently happening, not that I was even remotely interested. I turned to leave, and walked out the front doors. Marsha waved goodbye as I left, and I waved back. She was a good person, sweet. Not the kind of woman I was into. Then again, I doubted the soprano was either based on her church going ways, but I still was thinking about her as I left. I saw her waiting outside, alone.

                "Hey," She said as I walked past. "New guy, you leaving already?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm...I'm Elijah. I am sorry that I was...staring at you. I just, you don't..."

"I don't look like I belong," she said. "Good news Elijah, God doesn't have a dress code. But I don't mind, a lot of church people stare at me because of my hair and my piercings."

"I didn't...I am not a church person. I wasn't judging you." More like undressing you mentally.

"Me neither, but somehow, we're both in a church," she laughed. "How'd you get here?"

"My nana made it her deathbed wish to see me perform with the Bells."

"Wow, I didn't expect a dead nana reason," she said.

                "What about you?" I asked, more intrigued by the moment. She was overtly bubbly, and I found the juxtaposition between her bright personality and dark features fascinating.

"I'll tell you," she said. "But I need a favor."

"Ok..." I said. "What's your price, Neveah?"

"I need a ride, since my roommate bailed on me. Do you drive?"

"I do," I said. "Aren't you scared I could be a sociopath?"

"Sociopaths don't do Christmas carols for their nanas."

"Hey," I said. "I am sure some sociopaths love their nanas...But you're right. I am harmless. Let's go."

"Aye, aye, captain Elijah," she said.

"It's Eli," I said, smiling.

                "Ok, Eli, I am guessing you're not a Christian. Am I right?"

"Yes ma'am," I said, unlocking my car. She slid right in, just like she owned the damn thing.

"So," Neveah said. "Let me tell you, to all Christians are what you expect. I am just a girl who was lost, and found something bigger. No hangups, no hypocrisy, just a girl with a little faith."

"What do you mean, you were lost?"

"I was homeless for a little while," She said. "Some guy gave me a bible, and I read it under a bridge. It helped me through a hard time. I got cleaned up, got a job. I became...whole again."

"So now you want to fix me..."

"No, I just think you seem interesting. We could be great friends, you and I."

"I think you should forgot about all that bible crap for a night, and let me show you a good time. Let me show you how good it feels to be bad?" I gave her my most piercing gaze.

Neveah just laughed out loud, her tiny little body shaking as her chuckles filled up my car. That was a hard no, I guess.

"Does this shit work on girls? How desperate are the women you sleep with. My goodness, Eli, you're hilarious."

                "Thanks, I feel great now. You're mocking me." I replied. "But hey, can Jesus freaks say 'shit'?"

"I try not to," she replied. "But I am just human. Not human enough to fall for your creepy one liners. You sound like a used car salesman."

"I am a used car salesman."

"Brilliant," She said. "Eli, you are absolutely brilliant."

                I wanted to be angry with her, but secretly, I loved the sound of her mocking laughter. It was infectious. This quirky, peculiar, punk church girl had hooked in minutes. Suddenly, I knew Tuesdays would be my new favorite day of the week.