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Out with the In Crowd

Page 20

by Stephanie Morrill


  “Good pep talk.”

  He smiled. “But love is like a lot of things in life. The people who cost us the most become most dear to us. Look at everything Abbie went through for Owen. Look how needy he is. How he keeps her up at night and wants to be held all the time. And yet Abbie loves him more than anything else in this world.”

  “I guess.”

  “And look at Jesus. The pain he went through was so great, yet his love for us is more than we can even comprehend. You see what I’m driving at?”

  You see what I’m “No pain, no gain?”

  He chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “But how do you trick yourself into trusting someone after they’ve hurt you?”

  Dad’s eyebrows arched. “Trick yourself?”

  “You know what I mean. How do you trust someone when common sense tells you not to?”

  A shadow crossed his face, and I knew he thought of Mom, of how close he came to losing her. Of how he could still lose her. “What it boils down to, I think, is trusting God. Let’s use you and Connor as an example. When he comes crawling back to you—and I do mean when—you’ll have to make the decision of whether or not you want to trust him. But what you’re really saying is you trust God will take care of you, even if Connor proves to be untrustworthy. That’s what your mother and I are having to learn. To trust that there’s nothing too big for God to handle or too big for us to work through as long as he’s helping us.”

  I mulled this over while I took a large bite of my cookie. It was crispy and tasted like I imagined a burned shoe might. With some chocolate. “Dad.” I forced myself to swallow. “This is horrible.”

  He sighed. “I guess I’m no good at cookie making. Business deals, sure. But this clearly isn’t my gift.”

  Abbie entered the kitchen with a swaddled and sleeping Owen. “Mmm, cookies.”

  “Proceed at your own risk,” I said, reaching for my nephew.

  “Same to you. He’s spitting up like crazy today.”

  As she transferred him to my arms, Owen arched his back. His face scrunched, and his fists clenched. What a horribly confusing feeling it must be to go from the warm, snuggly comfort he’d always known to this unstable world.

  Tears pricked my eyes as I recognized myself in him. My life had felt off-kilter since I woke up from that party on July 15, as if God was in the process of transferring me from one life to another.

  “Shh,” I whispered to Owen, pulling him close. “You’re okay.”

  In amazement, I watched as his face relaxed and he settled against me. Somehow, despite his discomfort a few seconds before, he was able to trust my security. He didn’t seem worried that I’d drop or abandon him, he just drifted back to sleep.

  I drew him even closer, hoping to show him he was right to trust.

  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks to:

  My husband, Ben, who reads my books in their primitive form, is a constant source of encouragement, and makes excellent and inspiring chocolate chip cookies.

  My Tuesday babysitters, Steve and Beth Hines, and my Thursday babysitters, Ann and Bruce Morrill. I have the best parents and in-laws ever.

  My writing friends who read the first draft of this book and offered feedback: Roseanna White, Mary Proctor, Carole Brown, Kasey Heinly, and Colleen Shine Phillips.

  Kelli Stouder and Debbie McCool, two of my great encouragers.

  Dr. Amy Knapitsch, who answers all my medical questions promptly and kindly.

  Cindy Arterburn, whose adoption expertise was invaluable to Abbie’s story.

  My agent, Kelly Mortimer, who continues to shock me with her love for and belief in Skylar.

  And my amazing publishing house, Revell, particularly those I’m in regular contact with—Jennifer Leep, Jessica Miles, Janelle Mahlmann, and Cheryl Van Andel. Thank you for all your hard work.

  Stephanie Morrill is a twentysomething living in Overland Park, Kansas, with her high school sweetheart-turned-husband and their young daughter. She loves writing for teenagers because her high school years greatly impacted her adult life. That, and it’s an excuse to keep playing her music really, really loud.

  Getting a Fresh Start

  Book 1 in the Reinvention of Skylar Hoyt series

  Is Harder Than It Looks

  Book 3 in the Reinvention of Skylar Hoyt series

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