Giving Thanks For Baby

by Terri Reed

  The tears misting Trista’s eyes brought tenderness welling up in Scott. “And you are.”

  “Your confidence means a lot,” she stated.

  He wanted to tell her she meant a lot to him but he kept silent. If he spoke, he was sure to tell her how much she’d come to mean to him. Until she gave him a sign that she wanted more from him than spiritual guidance and friendship, he wouldn’t put himself or her in an awkward position.

  “We also stopped at Kevin’s parents’ house.”

  Scott gaped. “Really?”

  “I’d thought a lot about what you said about building bridges and I didn’t want to be accused of withholding their grandson from them.”

  “And how did that go?”

  “Surprisingly well. They were smitten with Aidan and totally want to spoil him.”

  “Will they try to take Aidan from you?”

  She shook her head. “No. I think being grandparents is going to suit them just fine.”

  He was relieved for her and Aidan’s sake. “Well, that’s one of the great things about grandparents. Naomi is always saying she can’t wait to spoil some grandbabies.”

  “As long as I can be there to temper the effects,” she stated.

  “Smart woman.”

  “You know, the Hugheses were a lot different today than in the past. When Kevin and I married, they’d made it clear they didn’t think I was good enough for their son. But apparently, Kevin stopped by to see them the other day with a woman in tow. I guess I’m pretty good in comparison.”

  He stared. “What?”

  “I know.” She made a “you got me” face. “While we were waiting in the courtroom for him, he and this woman were sailing off to the Bahamas. I explained to his parents what had been going on and they were very upset. They even apologized for him and invited Aidan and I to have Christmas dinner with them at the country club.”

  Relieved that Kevin was truly out of the picture for now and that Trista had some closure with the Hughes, he stated, “It’s been some day for you.”

  She nodded. “They want to take Aidan and I Christmas tree shopping next weekend.”

  He grinned. “See, didn’t I tell you building a bridge would be worthwhile?”

  “I’m very grateful for your wisdom,” she replied as she touched his arm.

  Warmth seeped into his veins and he wanted to take her fully in his arms. But a simple touch was not enough of an indicator that she would welcome his attention. “Uh, we should get back.”

  Her gaze met his. “Yes, we should.”

  But she didn’t move. Neither did he. Scott stared into her blue eyes, seeing affection and caring that left him breathless. What he saw had nothing to do with him being her pastor or friend….

  A commotion from inside the youth center shattered the moment. They hurried to see what was going on.

  A camera crew had invaded the youth center. Douglas Matthews, dressed in a slick navy pin-striped suit and a red paisley tie, stood with a microphone in his hand as he interviewed Reverend Fraser.

  Nothing like a town celebrity to liven up things.

  “Ugh! That man,” Trista whispered. “I wonder where Lynda is?”

  Scott captured her hand and gave her a squeeze. “We’ve done what we can. What Lynda decides to do is in God’s hands.”

  “I’m not giving up on her,” Trista stated with a note of defiance in her voice.

  Scott appreciated how much she cared and wanted to stand up for someone who obviously wasn’t standing up for herself. “And I’ll help as much as I can.”

  She squeezed his hand back. “We should probably get to work, too, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely.”

  Scott led Trista to the buffet table. Sandra Lange smiled her welcome and handed Trista a pie cutter. Giving Trista a parting smile, Scott visited with the men, women and children sitting at the many tables.

  Something clattered to the floor.

  “Oh, you oaf!” Douglas shouted to a bedraggled man who stood staring at the plate of food now splattered all over Douglas’s shoes. “These are Italian. Do you have any idea how much they cost? You’ve ruined them!”

  The photographer snapped off several shots of Douglas’s outraged face.

  “Hey, you better not print those,” Douglas screeched.

  Scott tightened his jaw as he and Naomi rushed to help defuse the situation. But Douglas stormed out with his camera crew in tow. Naomi helped the man who’d dropped his plate get another. And Scott cleaned up the mess on the floor.

  “Here.”

  Scott looked up to see Trista kneeling beside him with a wad of paper towels. Pleased by her help, he said, “Thanks.”

  He could get used to working with her by his side.

  Together they wiped up the spilled food.

  “That man is some piece of work,” Trista said as she tossed the soiled towels in the trash.

  “He has a temper that he doesn’t seem to be able to control,” Scott agreed.

  “I’m worried about Lynda. You don’t think he’d take his anger for this incident out on her, do you?”

  “I pray not, but maybe you should use the office phone and give her a heads-up.”

  “Good idea.” Trista hurried away.

  Scott went back to visiting but quickly broke away when Trista returned a few minutes later.

  “She was thankful and promised to stick to her safety plan if he came home in a rage.” Trista sighed. “I hope she really will. I offered to come over there now, but she adamantly refused.”

  “We’ll check on her a little later,” Scott promised.

  They went back to the previous tasks and Scott found his gaze continually seeking her out as she served pie. Her popularity with the people didn’t rest solely on the pie she handed out, but on the kindness she showed as she chatted easily with those in line. Several times she met his gaze and offered him a smile which made him feel as if he could fly.

  The afternoon wore down and the youth center cleared out.

  “Hey, what are you and Aidan doing after we’re done here?” Scott asked as Trista wiped down a table.

  She shrugged. “Going home, I guess.”

  “Would you be interested in joining me at my parents’?” He held his breath, hoping she’d say yes.

  She blinked. “I…I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just…” She cocked her head to one side. “Well, why do you want me to?”

  He couldn’t exactly tell her that he was falling for her so he settled for another truth. “I could really use a buffer with my family.”

  Empathy darkened her blue eyes. “You came with me to see my mother so I should repay you the favor.”

  Disappointment slid through his chest. “I’ll take that. Would you like to ride over with me or do you want to follow in your car?”

  “We can move Aidan’s car seat into your car, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course.” He watched her move away to finish clearing the tables. He admired her loyalty and giving nature and really enjoyed her honesty and forthrightness. He only hoped that one day the barriers between them could be breached.

  Scott took out the trash and then went to his office to call his parents.

  “Scott, when are you coming? I’ve been holding dinner,” groused his mother.

  Scott sighed. “Soon, Mom. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to bring two guests.”

  “Oh.” There was a moment of silence. “Someone I know?”

  “Not yet. We’ll be there within the hour.”

  “Fine. I’ll set two more places.”

  “Uh, Mom. One of them is a baby.”

  “A…baby?” she said into the phone and then her voice became a bit muffled as she spoke, “Scott’s bringing home a person with a baby.”

  Scott could hear voices in the background and he winced, but better to get the ribbing over with now than in front of Trista.

  Something clicked
. His sister came on the line. “Scott! Is there something you’re not telling us?”

  “No!” He rolled his eyes at the outrageous suggestion. “It’s just a friend.” At least for the moment.

  “Are you bringing the mother or the father?”

  “Yes, dear, do tell,” his mother added, sounding intrigued.

  Great, now he had both of them on the line. “The mother. Her name is Trista. We’ll be there soon. Please treat her nicely.”

  His mother huffed. “As if we’d do otherwise!”

  “Really, Scott. Of course we’ll welcome her. She does know you’re a pastor right?”

  Scott closed his eyes. “Yes, she does.”

  “Well, then that’s a relief. We wouldn’t want another Sylvia catastrophe.”

  Rubbing his hand over his face, Scott replied, “No, we wouldn’t. Trista is well aware of who I am.”

  “And she still likes you?” his sister trilled. “That’s wonderful.”

  Gritting his teeth, he said, “Yes. Well. I’ve got to go.”

  “Your father wants you to stop and pick up more eggnog. You know how he likes his eggnog,” his mother said before hanging up.

  Scott put the receiver back in its cradle, already exhausted from his family, and he hadn’t even been ribbed yet by his brothers or grilled by his father. He could only pray that Trista would understand that the Crosby clan could be overbearing and overwhelming. But they were still his family.

  Hopefully, they wouldn’t scare her off before he had a chance to tell her how he felt.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Scott pulled up in front of a huge white house with green trim and a white picket fence. Trista straightened, both intrigued and intimidated. This was a house straight from her childhood dreams.

  Dreams that had never come true.

  She glanced at Scott. No wonder or awe showed on his face. But of course not. He’d grown up here, this was familiar. Nothing special. She wished she knew what that felt like.

  Well, maybe today she could pretend. Not only for Scott’s sake. But for her own, as well.

  As Trista lifted Aidan from his car seat, the front door opened. A woman in her midsixties stepped out and wiped her hands on the red apron at her waist. Her long, faded blond hair was held back at the nape of her neck by a gold clip and her snowman-print sweater was very festive. For a moment Trista thought she’d stepped into an episode of Leave It to Beaver.

  Mrs. Crosby moved down the porch stairs to greet them. “You must be Trista,” she said, her smile warm and inviting and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Yes. And this is Aidan,” Trista replied.

  “Oh, he’s adorable. Scott, you didn’t tell me how adorable the baby was.” Shifting her gaze to Trista, she asked, “May I hold him?”

  Awed by Mrs. Crosby, Trista nodded and handed Aidan to her. Aidan touched the woman’s face eliciting a giggle from her. “Oh, you precious darling. I must show you off.”

  Mrs. Crosby went inside, leaving Scott and Trista by the car.

  Scott shook his head. “We’ll have to pry him from her hands I think. My mother loves children. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  His words surprised her. How could he dread coming home? She’d give anything for this welcoming, caring environment. It was so extremely different from what she’d grown up with.

  But unfortunately dreams and reality rarely mixed.

  Just look at Lynda Matthews.

  Trista would bet she’d never expected to find herself abused and intimidated by her husband. Worry gnawed at the back of Trista’s mind. When Scott had stopped to pick up the eggnog, she’d taken the opportunity to call the Matthews home. The housekeeper had informed Trista that Mrs. Matthews was not at home. Trista wished she knew that Lynda and Logan were safe.

  But as Scott had pointed out, Lynda was in God’s capable hands.

  Trista followed Scott into the house and glanced around with awe. Everything was just as she imagined, warm and cozy with knickknacks and comfortable-looking furniture.

  “Ha! Checkmate!” one of two men sitting at the chessboard near the fireplace exclaimed, drawing Trista’s attention.

  “You cheated!” the other man stated loudly.

  “No more than you.”

  “I’m done.”

  “Poor loser.”

  An older man whom Trista decided must be Scott’s father rose from the recliner.

  “Hello there, young lady,” he said and held out his hand. “Joseph Crosby.” His big strong hand engulfed hers.

  “I’m Trista Van Zandt. Thank you for allowing my son and I to come for dinner.”

  Mr. Crosby’s lined face broke into a smile. “Always glad to have company. This one never brings home a guest. Ashamed of us heathens I think.”

  “Dad!” A red flush crept into Scott’s cheeks.

  Trista stiffened, ready to be offended for Scott but then she noticed the twinkle of teasing in Mr. Crosby’s pale-green eyes.

  The two chess players came to stand beside Mr. Crosby. Trista stared at the two handsome men, seeing the family resemblance in their thick blond hair and green eyes. But these two looked almost identical.

  “Twins?” she asked.

  The brothers exchanged an amused glance. “We get that a lot,” the brother on the right said. He held out his hand and shook Trista’s hand vigorously. “John. I’m fourteen months older than this lug and five years older than that squirt.”

  “I’m Kyle.” The younger of the two took her hand and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss. “The charming one.”

  Easing her hand back, Trista glanced at Scott. His jaw was set tight and the glare he was giving his brother could ignite a fire.

  “You’re also married,” Scott stated flatly.

  Kyle winked at Trista. “Doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

  A little taken aback by his unabashed flirting, Trista raised an eyebrow. “What does your wife think of that?”

  “Oh, I’m quite used to his outrageous self,” a petite redhead said as she descended the staircase, her intelligent hazel eyes gleaming. She came to stand beside her husband, who immediately tucked her against his side and swiftly kissed her before grinning at her like a smitten child.

  The redhead smiled at Trista. “I’m Lydia. We’re so glad you came.”

  “Thanks,” Trista replied, instantly liking Kyle’s wife.

  Mrs. Crosby came in carrying Aidan. “Okay, everyone, Ana and I are ready to get this show on the road. We’ve waited long enough for Scott to arrive. It’s time to eat.”

  An olive-skinned brunette came out of the kitchen, her hands laden with dishes. John rushed to her side, took her burden from her and placed them on the table. Then they disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “That’s John’s wife, Ana,” Scott said as he escorted Trista toward the table. “They’ve been married for almost twenty years.”

  Impressed, Trista nodded as she reached for Aidan. Mrs. Crosby gave him a squeeze before releasing him.

  “Joe, honey, will you go to the garage and grab the high chair,” Mrs. Crosby said as she moved back toward the kitchen.

  Mr. Crosby saluted her retreating back then grinned at Trista. “I have my orders,” he said before walking away.

  “Where’s Elise?” Scott asked. To Trista he said, “My sister.”

  Kyle held out a chair for Lydia. “She and Ryan are downstairs with the kids. I better go round ’em up.” Kyle came around the table and put Scott in a headlock. “You better come with me. Elise is gonna want to grill you like steak on the barby, especially when she gets a load of the beauty you brought home.”

  Trista bit her lip to keep from laughing. She could see the embarrassment in Scott’s eyes at his brother’s teasing. Scott managed to get out of his brother’s hold, then gave Trista an apologetic smile before following his brother out of the room.

  “Don’t mind them,” Lydia said as she leaned forward. “They love to tease each other, and especia
lly poor Scott. He doesn’t take it so well.”

  “I noticed,” Trista replied. “Why is that?”

  Lydia shrugged. “Being the youngest, he was always the brunt of their mayhem. I grew up just down the street so I got to see it all.”

  “So you and Kyle are childhood sweethearts?”

  That elicited a laugh. “No. We hated each other growing up. He was the class clown and I was the—” she waved a hand at her bright red hair “—the joke.”

  Trista frowned as she sat in the chair Scott had pulled out for her before he’d left the room. Settling Aidan on her lap, she pushed the silverware away from his clapping hands. “They made fun of you?”

  “Oh, they make fun of everyone. It’s a family trait. All except Scott.” Lydia picked up her water goblet and took a drink. “Kyle and I didn’t get together until college. We had a debate class together.” Her eyes sparkled. “That was fun. We used to tease each other unmercifully, until the teacher finally made us work together on the same team. We credit Professor Sorenson with starting our romance.”

  “Wow, that’s a cool story,” Trista smiled, imagining what that must have been like to watch.

  A noise like a herd of elephants on rampage filled the air. Suddenly the dining room was swamped with chattering and laughing bodies. Children ranging from elementary school age to teens scrambled for spots around the large dining table, leaving random empty chairs for the adults. Lydia introduced Trista and the kids rattled off their names so fast there was no way Trista would ever remember any of them.

  A boy of about seven sat on Trista’s right, Garen, Trista thought he’d said. And a teenage girl sat on her left where Trista had expected Scott to sit. Mr. Crosby came in with the high chair and had the boy scoot his chair over so he could place Aidan next to her. They all laughed at Aidan’s antics as she secured him in his seat.

  A blond woman whom Trista assumed was Elise, stopped beside Trista and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hi, I’m Elise.” She grinned, looking giddy. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Overwhelmed by this big welcoming family, Trista’s mouth grew dry and she blinked back sudden tears. This is what she’d wanted for herself. It was what she wanted for her son.