by L. N. Cronk
“Ummm,” he hesitated, “just something I wanna take a closer look at when we get outta here.”
He grabbed the originals as they shot out of the automatic feeder and stuffed them back into the folder. I started to reach for the copies, but he grabbed them before I could.
“Let’s go,” he said, stuffing the folder back into the drawer. He pushed it shut and depressed the lock. “You got my copies for tomorrow?”
“Right here,” I said, holding them up. He took them from me and put the copies he’d just made in the middle of my stack. Flipping off the lights as we went, Tanner closed the door to EC Services and led us back through the main lobby and then out the front door of the building.
“So let me see what you copied,” I said after we’d climbed back into the truck.
“Ummm, I think I’d better look at ’em first,” he said, tucking them into a pocket in his door.
“Why?”
“I’m not even supposed to tell you anything about a student that I’ve taught, much less let you look at their files.”
“But you already let me look at his file,” I argued as he started the engine. “Why can’t you just let me see what it is?”
“I just . . . I just think I’d better look at it first and then . . . then if there’s anything you need to know, I promise I’ll tell you.”
“Why can’t you show me now?” I persisted.
“Look, David,” he said, turning toward me. “Will you trust me? I mean, I just broke the law for you. I could go to jail, get fired, lose my license. Will you just trust me? If there’s something in here you need to know about, I’ll tell you. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said as he started the truck. But on the way back to my house, I thought about what he’d said.
I just broke the law for you. I could go to jail, get fired, lose my license.
What had gotten into me lately? Since when did I break the law? Since when did I jeopardize my best friend’s job? Since when did I think it was okay to lie to a social worker . . . to tell her that I wanted to take in foster kids, when, really, I was only interested in getting the one child she’d already told us we couldn’t have?
I knew the answer . . . it had been since I’d met Amber. Since I’d decided that she was in trouble and that she needed me.
But that’s okay, right? Wasn’t bending the rules acceptable if you were trying to help someone? Didn’t we lie to Charlotte to keep her and Jordan from finding out about Chase? Didn’t mission workers sneak the Gospel into countries where it was illegal all the time? Wasn’t this pretty much the same thing?
Part of me knew that I needed to talk to God about it – that I needed to find out what He thought. Part of me knew that I should pray about it and listen to God and make sure that I knew His will.
But another part of me was afraid to find out God’s will. I desperately wanted Amber, and I wanted to get her out of that house, and I really didn’t want to hear about it if God didn’t feel the same way.
That part of me was the bigger part.
And so – on the ride home in Tanner’s truck – I convinced myself that what I was doing was right and that God must surely be okay with it.
After all, how could God possibly want anything else for that sweet little girl, except for what I already knew was right?
~ ~ ~
THE NEXT MORNING I took Dorito to school and volunteered for the last time until after the holidays.
“I’m not gonna see you until after break,” I told Amber as I was leaving, “but I got you something for Christmas.”
She smiled at me.
I absolutely loved that smile.
“Sorry it’s not wrapped,” I said, pulling a book out and giving it to her. “Have you ever read this?”
It was C. S. Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew. Amber looked at it and shook her head.
“Well,” I explained, “there are seven of these . . . just like the Harry Potter books. So, if you read this over break and you like it, I’ll get you the other ones, okay?”
She nodded and signed, Thank you.
“Can you tell me?” I asked her, leaning forward.
She nodded and set the book down so she could cup her hands around my ear to say it.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, giving her a hug when she was done.
She whispered into her cupped hands one more time.
“Merry Christmas.”
“So, do I even want to know what you and Tanner did last night?” Laci asked when I got back from the school.
“Probably not,” I said, not volunteering anything else. Somehow I had the feeling that Laci wasn’t going to see quite so clearly just how right I was.
She shook her head and didn’t ask any more questions.
“Do you have everything?” I asked her as she zipped up her suitcase.
“Probably not,” she said.
That night, the kids and I went over to have dinner with Mrs. White and Charlotte.
“When does Jordan’s plane get in?” I asked Charlotte after we’d sat down. He was due to fly in the next day.
“Right after lunch.”
“So, what you’re saying is that I’m not gonna see you anymore after tonight?”
“If you look out your window, you might see me a few times,” she grinned. (Jordan and his mom lived across the street from me and Laci.)
“Oh, goody,” I said.
“Are you and Jordan going to get married?” Dorito asked.
“Maybe,” Charlotte said, still smiling.
“And what will that make me?” he asked.
“What?”
“You know,” I explained. “When someone marries your sister then they’re your “brother-in-law” . . .”
“Oh,” Charlotte nodded. “Well, let’s see. I guess since your dad acts like he’s my dad too, that would make you my brother, so you would be Jordan’s brother-in-law.”
“Really?” he asked happily.
“No,” I said. “I don’t act like her dad. I act like her brother. Her young, cool, hip brother.”
Charlotte suppressed a laugh and Mrs. White smiled.
“So, what would that make me?” Dorito wanted to know.
“Well,” I said. “Since Charlotte is like my sister, you’re like her nephew. So Jordan would be your uncle.”
“Cool!” Dorito said. “Just like Uncle Tanner!”
“Sure,” I said.
“He’s gonna be so messed up,” Charlotte muttered.
“So do you and “Uncle Jordan” have big plans for the next two weeks?” I asked.
“Nothing too big,” she said. “We’re supposed to go skiing on Friday, but other than that, we’re just gonna hang out . . . do family stuff, you know.”
“Family stuff?”
“You know, Christmas here, Christmas there.” She stuffed a forkful of salad in her mouth.
“We’re still doing Christmas Eve here, right?” I asked.
“I’m planning on it,” Mrs. White said.
“Christmas!” Dorito said, holding his fork high up in the air.
“Christmas!” Lily said, clapping.
“And then are you doing Christmas morning at their house?”
“I dunno,” she said, shrugging and wiping her mouth. “I don’t think they really know what they’re doing yet.”
“How come?” Mrs. White asked.
“Chase is talking about not coming home for Christmas.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno,” she said again. “He said he’s having trouble with his truck and he doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to make it.”
“Oh,” Mrs. White said. “That’s a shame. I know Jordan will be disappointed if he doesn’t get to see Chase.”
“We’ll see him,” Charlotte said, taking a drink of milk. “If Chase can’t make it here, we’ll probably take their mom up there and go see him. We might even try to surprise him. I just don’t know when we’re gonna go.”
Uh-oh, I tho
ught. This is not going to turn out well.
After I got the kids in bed I checked my cell phone, which I had accidentally left on my dresser when I’d gone over to the White’s. There was one missed call from my mom. I looked at the time and decided it was too late to call her on a school night, so I decided I’d try her back tomorrow after she was through teaching. I figured I knew what she wanted anyway – I had completely forgotten to get those boxes out of my room over the weekend.
Wednesday evening there was a fellowship dinner at church. After that, Lily and I sat in the sanctuary and watched Dorito and the other kids practice for the Christmas pageant.
When we got home I put the kids to bed and I called Mom.
“I saw you called last night,” I said. “Sorry I didn’t answer. I didn’t have my phone with me.”
“Oh,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You didn’t leave a message and I was afraid you were already in bed . . .”
“That’s okay,” she said, sounding distracted. “It’s doesn’t matter now.”
“You guys wanna go out for dinner tomorrow night?” I asked. What I was actually hoping for was an invitation to another home cooked meal, but what I wound up getting was nothing.
“I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “We’re busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Maybe we could get together over the weekend,” she answered.
“Okay,” I said. “But what are you guys doing?”
“Now’s not a good time, David,” she said. “I really need to go.”
“Okay,” I said, mildly puzzled, and I hung up the phone.
I called Laci next.
“So where are you gonna take the kids tomorrow night?” she asked when I told her about my conversation with my mom.
“Maybe I’m gonna cook!”
“Yeah, right!”
“I could!”
“But you won’t,” she laughed.
“Probably not.”
“Why don’t you call my mom?” Laci suggested.
“No,” I said. “She’s already watching Lily for me three days this week. I don’t need her to cook for me too.”
“She doesn’t mind.”
“I know,” I said. “But we’ll just go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. Dorito’s been bugging me to go there.”
“That’s awfully loud for Lily,” Laci worried.
“She’ll be fine,” I said. “I promise.”
“Don’t forget he’s got Scouts!”
“I won’t,” I said. “That’s gonna be my excuse to get him out of there!”
“Okay. Well, have fun.”
“Oh, I’m sure we will.”
“I miss you,” she said.
“I miss you, too.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The next morning I dropped Dorito off at school and then took Lily by Laci’s parents’.
“You sure you three don’t want to come over for dinner tonight?” Laci’s mom asked.
“Laci told you to invite me?”
“She said something about saving you from Chuck E. Cheese’s,” she laughed.
“Too late,” I said, shaking my head. “I already promised Dorito.”
“Ahhh,” she said, knowingly. “He remembers I’m picking him up from school again today, right?”
“Yep. He’s very excited about it.”
“Good.”
“As a matter of fact, if you want to try and talk him into coming over here for dinner . . .”
“I don’t think I stand a chance against Chuck E. Cheese’s.”
“Probably not,” I admitted.
“But, I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t the four of you come over tomorrow night? You know Laci’s not going to feel like cooking when she gets home and you probably aren’t going to want to go out again.”
“Are you sure? You’ve done a lot already.”
“Absolutely. And that’ll give us a chance to find out all about her trip, too.”
“That sounds great. Thanks.”
I gave Lily a hug and kissed her goodbye.
“I’ll be back before dinner, all right?” I asked her. She nodded.
“And then we’ll go to see the big mouse, okay?”
“Mouse,” she said, clapping her hands.
“That’s right,” I said. “You be good for Grandma. I’ll see you tonight.”
It was about four-thirty that afternoon when I heard the front door slam open.
“David?!” I heard Charlotte hollering.
“Up here,” I called back. I could hear her stomping up the stairs and I twirled around in my chair just in time to see her storm through my office door. She glared at me.
“What?”
“How long have you known?” Her voice was quiet, but angry. Her face was streaked with tears.
“Charlotte,” I said, tilting my head at her sympathetically.
“HOW LONG?”
I took a deep breath.
“Since August,” I finally said quietly. She shook her head at me in disgust and stomped back down the hall.
“Charlotte, wait!” I jumped out of my chair and raced after her. By the time I got to her she was already at the front door and I grabbed her by the arm. She pulled away and glared at me.
“I will never forgive you for this, David. Never.”
“Tanner made me promise I wouldn’t say anything.”
“Don’t even talk to me about Tanner!”
“Come on, Charlotte . . .”
“No, David,” she yelled. “You come on! I thought I could trust you! How could you keep something like this from me?”
“Charlotte, I–”
“You know what, David?” she asked, opening the door. “I don’t even want to hear it.”
She stormed out before I could say another word and climbed into her car, which was parked in Jordan’s driveway. She slammed the door, started the car and raced away. After she was gone, I noticed that Tanner’s truck was in the driveway too. I walked over and knocked on the door.
“So, I gather Jordan found out?” I said when Tanner answered the door.
“Yeah,” Tanner sighed, letting me in.
“Thanks a lot for the warning . . .”
“Sorry,” he said. “Charlotte mad at you?”
I glared at him.
“Sorry,” he said again.
“How’s Jordan?”
“Okay. I think mostly he’s worried about Chase right now.”
“That figures,” I said.
Tanner nodded.
“Hi, David,” Jordan said, emerging from the kitchen with a package of cookies.
“Hi.”
“You want some Oreos?” he asked.
“Are they Double Stuf?”
“Of course . . .”
“Got any milk?”
He put the package on the coffee table and went back for a gallon of milk and three cups.
“So, Charlotte really let you have it, huh?” Jordan asked, pouring some milk into a cup and sliding it toward me.
I nodded.
“She’ll get over it.”
“I don’t think so . . .”
“Yes, she will,” he assured me. “She’s just upset right now, and she needed someone to take it out on. You know how she is.”
I sighed and twisted the top off of a cookie.
“It’s actually quite a compliment,” Jordan smiled.
“How do you figure that?” Tanner asked.
“She knows that he’s safe,” Jordan explained, then he looked at me. “She knows she can say anything she wants to you and you’ll still be there for her.”
“So, what you’re saying is that I should be feeling really, really good right now?”
“Absolutely,” he grinned. “You’re very special to Charlotte.”
I sighed again. “Lucky, lucky me.”
We sat for a few moments quietly dunking Oreos into milk.
“Yo
u gonna get tested?” I finally asked, breaking the silence.
“I dunno yet,” he shrugged. “I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it yet. I just found out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’ll be all right,” he promised, taking another cookie out of the pack. “No matter what, it’ll be all right.”
Charlotte came back at two in the morning and woke me up by rapping persistently on the storm door. I flipped on the front porch light, saw who it was, and opened the door.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Kinda hard to barge in when the door’s locked?”
She burst into tears. I pulled her inside and led her over to the couch.
“I don’t want this to be happening,” she sobbed after we sat down.
“I know,” I said, putting my arm around her and rubbing her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“What are we gonna do?” she cried.
“I . . . I don’t know,” I admitted.
“I thought everything was finally . . . good, you know? That everything was finally going to be okay.”
“You don’t even know if he’s got it or not,” I said. “Everything might be fine.”
“And what if it’s not fine? What if he’s got it?”
“Then . . . then we’ll all get through it together somehow.”
“And Chase isn’t going to be fine,” she cried.
“I know,” I said quietly. I squeezed her and kissed the top of her head.
I really wished Laci was there. She was so much better at this stuff than I was.
What would Laci say if she were here?
“Charlotte,” I said after a moment, “all I know is that it isn’t really about us. It’s about God, and He has this perfect plan that He’s in control of and we’re a part of it. Sometimes we understand what He’s doing . . . sometimes we don’t.”
She buried her head against me for another minute and didn’t say anything. Then, she finally sat back a bit.
“I’m sorry I took it out on you earlier,” she said, wiping her tears on her sleeve.
“It’s okay.”
“I just needed someone to yell at,” she went on.
“You can yell at me anytime you need to,” I smiled.