by Ginny Aiken
“It’s possible. Anything is. But you know? Something else troubles me even more.”
“Really?” she asked, desperate for any nugget of information.
“Yes, really.” His eyes narrowed, not in suspicion or anger. He looked puzzled, yes, questioning, bewildered. “I’m concerned about your expectations of everyone you meet. They’re pretty negative.”
She gasped.
“If people don’t fit your assumption, then you try to shoehorn them into that mental mold. You said you’re the victim of your family’s expectations. I think you’re twice a victim.”
Anger filled her. “What do you mean, twice a victim?”
“Yes, twice.”
As she went to speak, he placed a finger on her lips. “Hear me out,” he urged. “Yes, you’re a victim of their expectations, but it strikes me that you’re also a victim of the expectations you put on others. I don’t think you can see those around you for who they really are. You seem to see only what you expect to see.”
His indictment left her speechless.
He went on. “I fought to break free from my father’s expectations, and because of my clumsiness, we parted on bad terms. He died before I had a chance to mend our relationship. I have no intention of letting anyone else’s opinion cage me again. I decided at my father’s funeral that I would concern myself only with God’s greater expectations and trust Him to deal with what others expect of me. You should examine your heart. Maybe you’re letting your expectations bind you in ways far worse than the family ones you say you’ve fought to break.”
Rissa severed the connection between them. She ran to her car and drove home through a blinding flood of tears.
How could Jase say such hurtful, untrue things? She of all people knew how expectations hurt. She didn’t put expectations on anyone. People were people, temptations were tough, and change harder, even with God’s help. She certainly wasn’t bound by any bizarre backlash of the expectations he thought she imposed. She didn’t force expectations on others, she simply saw people as God’s flawed, sin-prone children—just like her.
Didn’t she?
Chapter 6
It was the worst week of Jase’s life—other than the one after his father’s death. Then, the failure to bridge the breach he carved when he told his father he could no longer in good conscience practice law as he had deepened his sense of loss. The elder Easton saw Jase’s departure from the firm as a personal insult, a betrayal. Jase saw it as part of his commitment to Christ. Father hadn’t understood. He’d never recognized his own need for the Savior.
This time, in addition to the loss of two lovely, valuable animals, Jase also felt the loss of what might have been. He’d sensed something special growing between him and Rissa. Now, in her view, he’d been negligent with her dog.
He also had to deal with the buyer who’d paid for the pup in advance. Jase had used that money and his savings as down payment for the future King’s Kids Downtown Ministries building—his secret dream. He couldn’t return the money. He couldn’t replace Soraya.
Both weighed heavily on him, each important in its unique way.
His heart said Rissa was special, that if somehow they overcame this crisis, they might have a future together. But he couldn’t see how, not unless he found the missing Affies. The police had no leads.
As he turned off the lamp on his nightstand, he couldn’t stop a grimace. What a way to spend a Saturday night. The cops had grilled him for hours again, then he’d seen to all the dogs’ needs, locked the kennel building, and finally returned to his lonely home.
In spite of the day’s busyness, Rissa hadn’t been far from his thoughts. “Lord,” he whispered as he drew the cotton sheet over his shoulders, “will she ever be?”
“There’s no question,” Rissa said into the phone, “this was the worst week of my life.”
Eva didn’t answer right away. Then, “Worse than the time after your mother’s accident?”
“Maybe not worse, but pretty close. I was little when Mamá fell. Grown-ups took care of things then. Now—”
“Yes,” Eva said, chuckling, “now you have to fix what you goof up as well as deal with the problem.”
“Oh, spare me. I apologized to you guys about a zillion times.”
“And we forgave you. You’re just lucky we didn’t have anything else scheduled for tonight besides playing at my parents’ restaurant. They understood when I told them we’d had a glitch in our schedule.”
Rissa sighed. “I’ll say we had a glitch—me. I can’t believe I didn’t write down the info when Robert Ramos called on Tuesday.”
“I think you had a few things on your mind. Like your missing dog and a very intriguing kennel owner.”
“Intriguing nothing,” she countered. “He’s negligent. A lawyer should know better.”
Again, silence reigned. As Rissa went to ask Eva to share her thoughts, her friend said, “I think you protest a bit much.”
“What? The guy challenged me to leave Soraya at SilkWood so he could show me I could trust him with her during the tour. Less than twenty-four hours later, he let someone steal her.”
“As I said, you’re protesting too much. You know that little deters a determined thief. I think you’re just a teeny-tiny wee bit scared of the guy in question.”
Rissa’s cheeks began to burn. “I’m not scared of Jason Easton.”
“Sure, you might not be scared of him, but I think you’re scared of the sparks between you.”
Thankfully, Eva couldn’t see her blazing skin—and hadn’t witnessed the near kiss. “You’re crazy, you know?”
“Mmm … maybe,” her friend said. “Time will tell.”
“Umm … well, yes. Speaking of time, it’s late and I do teach third-grade Sunday school. I’d better turn in, otherwise wild-man Tommy Young will run circles around me in the morning.”
Eva laughed. “You think Tommy’s pretty special, and you know it. But it is late, and performing tonight with only a mini run-through wasn’t easy on the old nerves.”
“Okay, okay,” Rissa conceded. “I’m sorry, so sorry I forgot to tell you guys about the gig at the Ramos Gallery. Thankfully, Robert called this morning to request some Mozart. Otherwise”—she shuddered—”we would have been a no-show. And then—”
“And then you’d spend even longer beating yourself up for not keeping track of every last second that goes by. You’re forgiven. Now go to sleep.”
After a quick good-bye, Rissa perched on the edge of the bed and faced facts. She’d changed since meeting Jase. First, she forgot her birthday. Then she forgot to write down the gallery engagement for the quartet—not to mention forgetting to tell the other members their services were needed. What else did she forget?
Jase scared her. Not personally, but the way he made her feel. Especially since, despite her anger over Soraya’s loss, she still wanted to see him.
He wasn’t responsible for the dogs’ theft.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered … what if that kiss had happened? What would it have meant? To her.
To Jase.
To them.
Tommy Young behaved like an angel, as did all the third-graders. The sermon inspired Rissa to listen more closely for God’s voice, and, after lunching on a Cuban sandwich bought on the way home, she curled up on her chaise and mulled over the pastor’s words.
Honesty was a virtue, one she valued, and as an honest woman, she had things to confess. For one, she cared about Jase. The worry she’d seen etched on his face, the lines on his forehead, the circles under his eyes, all testified to his concern for the missing animals. It moved her.
For another, since Jase remained adamant about Paul’s faith, she couldn’t blind herself to the possibility of the boy’s innocence.
And last, she did put rigid expectations on others—expectations that colored her response to them. She expected unconditional love and nurturing from her parents, and since their personal frailties
kept them from giving it, she stayed at arm’s length and withheld forgiveness. She’d expected Jase to be a pricey if rank ambulance chaser, but his love for Mahadi had surprised her. She hadn’t known how to respond, even though his true nature proved him admirable.
She could love Jason Easton.
And Paul … dare she trust Jase’s opinion of the boy? Or would her expectations of a former drug addict and thief color her actions?
She thought about what Jase had said, and in view of the morning’s sermon, she admitted he was right. She’d tried to take God’s place. What’s worse, she’d failed to trust in Him. He had the situation in control. He knew everyone’s heart. She had to trust and obey, since He remained sovereign regardless of what she did, said, or, for that matter, expected.
She had to ask Jase’s forgiveness. Not the easiest thing to do, but the honest one, and so she soon left for SilkWood, feeling lighter than she had in ages, despite her pain over Soraya’s loss.
“I’m surprised to see you,” he said, rising from his chair as she walked into the frigid kennel office.
Although flustered, Rissa refused to let nerves keep her from doing what she had to do. “You shouldn’t be. You were right—about the cage I’ve built for myself with the expectations I place on others.”
Jase rounded the counter. “I was right because I used to do it, too. I desperately wanted—expected—my father to see the error of his ways. I expected him to face his need for Christ, and instead of emulating the Savior, I hung on to my judgmental attitude.”
The crease on his forehead deepened. “I never had the chance to ask forgiveness for trying to be his Holy Spirit, for judging and convicting him instead of loving him as God called me to do.”
“Oh, Jase, I’m sorry for your loss and for being so blind. I did that to you, and you were still kind when you pointed out where I’d gone wrong.” She gave him a crooked smile. “I don’t think I’d have been as kind. I’d have put on my pride and self-righteousness, and demanded—expected—you to see the error of your ways.”
She touched his arm. “Will you forgive me? For being blind? Self-righteous? Prideful? Obnoxious?”
He covered her fingers with his, smiling back. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you obnoxious. In fact, I …” Blue eyes sought hers, asking the question that hovered between them.
Rissa took a step closer, laced her fingers through his.
He cupped her chin in his free hand. “As I was saying, I … I’ve come to … care for you. A lot.”
She placed her other hand on his cheek. “Me, too.” She chuckled and blushed. “I mean, I care for you, too—you know.”
“Yes,” he said, “I think I do.” He brought his lips to hers, and she closed her eyes, relishing his tender, warm caress. Her senses sang, joy filled her, and she soared in a crescendo of hope, happiness, and the promise of more. Love.
When the kiss ended, she whispered, “Please forgive me. I know you had nothing to do with Soraya’s disappearance, not even through negligence. I was angry and scared, and I dumped my anger on you.”
“What were you scared of?” he asked.
She squirmed. “You’re not going to let me off easy, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
She lowered her gaze. “Ever since we met, you had a strong effect on me, and I’d never felt that before. I’d always controlled my emotions, so I didn’t know how to react. That scared me.”
“More than your fear for Soraya’s well-being?”
She shot him a hard look. “Just as much, I’ll have you know.”
“Then, Rissa,” he answered, a smile on his lips, in his eyes, “there’s only one thing to do. We need to pray.”
Holding hands, they asked the Lord to bless their budding feelings, to forgive them for their occasional trespasses on His authority, to bless them with courage and strength as they grew closer and in their search for the missing dogs.
After hushed amens, they went outside, Jase’s arm around Rissa’s shoulders. She marveled at the thrilling newness of the contact, the unaccustomed intimacy, and smiled, knowing something wonderful was happening between them. For a moment, she let herself forget about Soraya and basked in the glow of romance.
Movement in the saw grass to the left rear of the SilkWood property caught her attention. “Look! There’s Paul, sneaking away. I bet he knows where the dogs are. I’m going after him.”
“Rissa!” Jase yelled as she ran across the parking area, past the kennel building, into the overgrown area where Paul had gone.
As she waded through the grasses and wove around the malaleuca trees, she prayed, asking the Lord for guidance, for wisdom in dealing with the teen, whatever she uncovered.
She came to a halt when she found him. In the shade of a huge malaleuca, he knelt, eyes closed, hands fisted at his hips.
“Father, please,” he prayed, his urgency stunning Rissa. “Help us find the dogs. I can’t go back to court, especially since this time I wasn’t even there when someone else did the stealing.”
Rissa heard a whimper in the distance, a familiar sound. Evidently, Paul recognized it, too. He stood, rustling the grass.
“Shh!” Rissa hissed.
He spun. “Where’d you come from?”
“I followed you, but that doesn’t matter right now. Let’s go find them, and quietly, so that we don’t scare away the thief.”
She took the lead, her ears keen on the faint cries of the newborn. Was she all right?
“If anything’s happened to that baby,” Paul muttered, his expression grim, “I’m gonna kill whoever took her.”
“No,” Rissa whispered, “you won’t. You’re going to trust the Lord to deal with those responsible.”
“You’re a Christian?”
Her cheeks flamed. “Yes, even though I haven’t acted like one toward you. I’m sorry, Paul. I judged you by your past, a very unfair thing to do. Please forgive me.”
He shrugged, never looking up from the ground. “’S okay. Everybody does it. Except Jase, but he’s different.”
“Yes, he is. I promise to be more Christlike, too.”
They fell silent as they approached an abandoned cement-block building that might once have been a garage.
“Do you think they’re here?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know,” Rissa answered, her heart beating like tympani at the hand of a demented drummer. “Let’s listen. We can’t just barge in without knowing what we’re getting into.”
He bristled. “I’m not scared. The Lord knows what I’m doing. He’ll protect me and see us through this.”
“You know what?” Rissa said. “I’ve got a lot to learn from you.”
He measured her mettle. “You just might be cool, you know?”
She grinned. “I hope so.”
Just then, Jase ran up. “What do you two think you’re doing?”
“Looking for the dogs,” Paul answered. “We heard the puppy.”
Jase looked at the decrepit building. “You think they’re here?”
Before Rissa or Paul could answer, the puppy whimpered again. Then Soraya sailed into sight from behind a half-wild red-blooming bougainvillea at the far corner of the garage, baby in her mouth. She trotted to an old wooden door on that side of the structure, and Rissa noted the splintered bottom panel. The canines vanished.
“There you girls are,” a man said. “Look what I brought.”
Jase’s jaw squared. “You two stay here. I’m going after him.”
“Not alone, you’re not,” Paul countered.
The older male frowned at the younger, who glowered right back. Rissa slipped past them. Let them posture. She was going after her pet—and the tiny infant who should still be with her mother.
She walked in through the gaping hole left by another, long-gone door. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she watched a familiar figure in a corner pour a white liquid into a baby bottle. On the floor beside him, she noted a sack of Soraya’s favorite ki
bble, two metal bowls, a can of specialized dry puppy formula, and a clean but torn flowered bedspread.
“Glad I spotted you the other day,” he told Soraya, who lay curled on the blanket, the puppy suckling at her belly. “I’d never thought you’d take off with a baby, but you did, and I’m glad. Now they won’t turn either one of you into puppy-incubating machines.”
“It’s called grand theft, Sean,” Rissa said.
The deliveryman dropped the bottle. He paled, shot a glance at the door as if to make a run for freedom, but Jase walked in. “And I intend to press charges,” he said.
Soraya gently pushed the baby aside, trotted to Rissa, rubbed up against her thigh, and licked her mistress’s hand. She yipped, then ran back to the pup.
Sean faced his accusers. “I didn’t steal the dogs. When I brought last Monday’s delivery, I saw her running through the saw grass. I drove around your property, parked by this old place, and found her nursing the puppy in here. Even though she can produce milk, that amount’s limited, and I was afraid the little one might starve, so I brought formula from the ASPCA hospital where I volunteer. I’ve taken good care of them.”
“You’re telling us her dog stole the puppy?” Paul asked, eyes big as saucers.
“That’s what happened. I just didn’t return them.” Sean stared at Jase. “What breeders like you do to dams is abusive and cruel. All you want is litter after litter to sell pups for all you can get. The world doesn’t need more dogs. We have too many at the shelter.”
Whereas Rissa’s anger simmered and threatened to boil over, Jase’s steely expression showed signs of softening. “You didn’t take the dogs?”
“No,” Sean answered. “I found them and took care of them. I made sure they had water, food, and even comfortable bedding.” He pointed to the blanket. “It’s not my fault the older one insists on carting the little one around. She thinks she’s the puppy’s mother.”
“Oh, Soraya,” Rissa chided. Hearing her name, the gorgeous golden Affie gave a happy bark, nudged the pup into a mound of blanket, and pranced to Rissa. She danced before her mistress, barked again, then returned to the pup and studied the gathered humans.