A Test of Faith

Home > Other > A Test of Faith > Page 12
A Test of Faith Page 12

by Karen Ball


  She went toward the phone, then stopped herself. For the last half hour, she’d gone back and forth, debating on whether or not to start calling Faith’s friends. It was like that cartoon, where the devil sat on one shoulder and an angel on the other, was acting itself out in her mind.

  You’re being overprotective.

  Overprotective, my foot! She could be lying in a ditch someplace, hurt, calling for you…

  Now you’re getting hysterical.

  I am not hysterical. I’m a mother.

  A hysterical mother.

  Oh, shut up!

  Now that’s mature. Yessiree. No hysterics going on here—

  Shaking the maddening dialogue from her mind, Anne gave in to the angel—or was it the devil? She wasn’t sure—and picked up the receiver. She’d start with Trista. If Faith was with Winnie, they surely would have called. Even if Faith hadn’t thought of it, Winnie would have.

  As she started to dial the number, she heard a rumbling. It took a moment to identify the sound—a motorcycle. A big one. And it sounded like it was right out front.

  Anne hung up and moved to the plateglass window at the front of the house. Her mouth tightened. Some leather-jacketed, Fonzie wannabe was pulling his monster motorcycle up to their curb. No helmet, of course, not on him or the passenger glued to his back.

  The boy lowered one tightly jean-clad, booted leg, propping the bike up, and leaned his head back to talk into his passenger’s ear. She leaned forward, her head touching his, her arms still clinging to his midsection. Some girls were so shameless!

  Anne was about to go back to the phone when the girl slid from the bike and stood on the curb, waving as the boy gunned his bike up a couple of decibels and roared off. Narrowing her eyes, Anne peered closer. Who was this girl? Which poor neighbor would have to deal with this bad boy?

  “What on earth?”

  Anne couldn’t believe her eyes. The shameless girl was Faith!

  She watched her daughter all but float up the front walkway. Anne turned as the front door opened, then slammed shut.

  “I’m home!”

  Anne stared, taking in her daughter’s appearance. Her hair was blown every which way, her radiant smile bordered by wind-roughened cheeks. But it was Faith’s eyes that caught Anne’s attention. They were positively glowing.

  “Mom! You’ll never believe it!”

  Anne tipped her head up, breathing deeply to keep her anger from seeping out. She would welcome her daughter home. Tell her how glad Anne was that she was all right. Then she’d ask, in as innocent a way as possible, who her new friend was.

  That’s what she would do.

  She opened her mouth. “Do you know what time it is, young lady?”

  Even as the scolding words escaped her, she wanted to snatch them back.

  Too late. The glow in Faith’s eyes dimmed, her smile trembled, died.

  “I … uh, no.” Faith glanced at the clock, then looked back at her mother. “I’m sorry I’m late, Mom.”

  Well, she started down this road. She had to finish, didn’t she? “You’re late, and you didn’t call. You know the rules. If you’re going to be late—”

  “I know; I have to call. I meant to. I looked for a phone. But—” her eyes pled for understanding—“but Mom, something amazing happened—”

  Anne held up a silencing hand. “I don’t care what happened. There’s no excuse for not calling. Go to your room. After your father gets home, he and I will be in to talk with you.”

  Delight had danced in Faith’s features when she got home. Now those same features were drawn with stark disappointment. She didn’t say another word. She turned and walked away.

  But Anne heard her daughter’s flat whisper as she left the room. “I thought you’d understand.”

  Anne’s heart longed to call her back, to ask her what had happened. But she couldn’t let herself waver. She had to be firm. For Faith’s sake.

  If only being firm didn’t feel so much like being mean.

  thirteen

  “Who overcomes by force has overcome but half his foe.”

  MILTON

  FAITH WAS IN TROUBLE. BIG TROUBLE.

  Her parents had told her it was time for a family conference. The last time they’d done that was when Faith was eight, and she swiped money from her mother’s purse. The sadness and disappointment on her father’s face that day had imprinted itself on Faith’s heart. She’d promised herself she would never do anything that would make him look that way again.

  So much for promises.

  After her head-to-head with Mom over Dustin a couple of days ago, things had been tense. More tense than Faith ever remembered. Even church today hadn’t seemed to ease the heaviness Faith felt in her chest. Several times she almost broke, almost went to tell her mother she was sorry. But each time, a voice inside her would stop her.

  Why should you apologize? You’re not the one who went off the deep end.

  Now Faith wished she’d ignored the voice. Maybe that would have avoided this little get-together.

  She looked up from the couch as her parents came into the living room. “Hi.”

  They both smiled at her. That was a good sign. Maybe things weren’t going to be so bad after all.

  Her dad sat in his chair, next to the couch, her mom sat next to Faith on the couch. Dad didn’t waste any time.

  “Punkin’, do you know why we wanted to talk with you?”

  She eyed her mom but didn’t see any anger there. “Umm, because of Dustin?”

  “That’s the boy who brought you home on Friday?”

  Faith nodded, then jumped a little when her mom put her hand over Faith’s.

  “Sweetie, I’m sorry I got so angry. I was worried when you didn’t come home on time.”

  Sudden emotion choked Faith. She didn’t want to scare her mom. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry too.”

  “We’re a little concerned, that’s all.”

  Faith nodded at her dad.

  “You’ve always been good about letting us know if you’re going to be late, punkin’. And we don’t worry too much when we know you’re with your friends, because we know your friends.”

  “But we don’t know this boy.” Faith’s mom squeezed her hand. “You want to tell us about him?”

  Heart pounding, Faith did so. At least, she told them what really mattered. That Dustin was a senior, that he was a nice guy who offered to give her a ride home.

  “Have you known him long?”

  She studied her father. “A couple of years.” It was kind of true. She’d seen him at school for that long. So they hadn’t talked until Friday. She’d known who he was long ago.

  “Does he date much?”

  Heat rushed into Faith’s cheeks at her mother’s question. She looked down at the floor. “Umm, I don’t know.” She didn’t. Not really. Trista said Dustin had lots of girlfriends, but Faith had never seen him with one. Hey! She could say that, and it was honest. She met her parents’ gazes. “I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend.”

  “So you like him?”

  Good grief! Her own gaze dove for the floor again. Her face must look like a tomato by now! “Yeah.” Yikes! She was squeaking again! This was ridiculous.

  Her father’s chuckle brought her head up. She felt his understanding, his patience, and suddenly the words rushed out. She poured her heart out, telling them how much she liked Dustin, how cool he was, how thrilled she was that he’d offered to give her a ride.

  “I should have called, I know. I just …”

  “You didn’t want to chance missing this opportunity.”

  Faith smiled her gratitude at her mother. So she really was young once! “Yeah. That.”

  “Faith, I want you to know we love you and we trust you.” Her mom’s eyes were serious. “But we also need to know you’ll be careful.”

  She frowned. Careful? “About what?”

  “About Dustin. About boys. We’ve always said you can start dating in high schoo
l—” Faith had to grin. Her dad sounded like he really regretted ever saying that!—“so we knew this was coming. It caught us a bit off-guard.”

  Faith nodded. “Me, too.”

  Her mom scooted closer and slid her arm around Faith’s shoulders. Faith leaned her head against her.

  “We’ve talked with you before about boys and dating.”

  She giggled. She couldn’t help it. “Oh, no! Not another birds and bees talk!”

  Her mom’s laughter melted the bits of hurt that were still holding on inside Faith. Why hadn’t she come and talked to her mom? She always felt so much better when she did so.

  “No, not another talk. We want to be sure you’re clear on the rules.”

  She sat up straight, putting her hands on her knees and recited: “ ‘No being alone with boys after dark or in dark rooms. No alcohol.’ ” She wrinkled her nose. “Ick! Like I’d drink the stuff. ‘No kissing unless I’ve gone out with the boy for at least six months. When we do kiss—’ ” she grimaced, still grossed out by this one—“ ‘no tongues. Sex belongs in marriage.’ ” She looked from one parent to the other. “For the record, I’ve always planned to save it for that.”

  Dad’s lips quirked. “Glad to hear it.”

  Faith finished with a flair. “ ‘And any boy who isn’t willing to abide by these rules doesn’t deserve to take me out!’ ” Her parents’ laughter drifting around her, Faith sat back with a smile.

  Her mom nudged her. “Any questions that you have, we want you to feel free to come ask us.”

  “I will, Mom.” She meant it, too. Sort of. There were some things you just didn’t ask you parents about. She had Trista for that.

  “And you need to be prepared, Faith. Because any boy who wants to date you will have to come meet us first.”

  No way! “Aw, Dad—”

  “Nonnegotiable, punkin’. I don’t like the way this boy dropped you off without coming in the house.”

  Faith bit her lip. “I asked Dustin to come in to meet you guys.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged. “He said he was late … for something.”

  Her dad’s eyes grew firm. “Next time, late or not, he comes inside.”

  Faith nodded, but she knew it wouldn’t happen. It would take time to get Dustin to come inside to meet her parents. She’d seen the resistance when she made the offer on Friday, the way his eyes swept her house, then got that cool, removed look. But his explanation had seemed fair enough.

  “You know I would if I had time, babe. But I gotta go.”

  She hadn’t pressed. Of course she hadn’t! But she would keep working on him. Mom and Dad wouldn’t understand that, though. So she’d make sure that, from now on, Dustin dropped her off around the corner. Where they couldn’t see them. Just for a little while. Until he was ready to come in and meet them. And when he finally did so, she knew he’d love them.

  Faith smiled at her parents.

  Everything was going to work out just perfect!

  “I can’t believe you used to go to church all the time, Faith. I mean, you’re so smart and everything.”

  Dustin watched Faith, gauging how Trista’s comment affected her. Clearly, she didn’t like it. But she didn’t argue, either.

  That was promising.

  He leaned against the hood of Trista’s car. Faith was stretched out on it, propped up on her elbows. Lifting the fall of auburn hair from her neck, Dustin caressed Faith’s shoulder. “That’s when she was young and foolish.”

  Faith leaned into his hand. “There’s nothing wrong with going to church, you guys—”

  “Sure, if you’re a total loser.”

  Trista’s snide comment hit home. Faith pushed herself up to a sitting position. “That’s not true.”

  Dustin narrowed his eyes just enough to show dismay, but not to be threatening. “So what are you saying, Faith? You like church?” That’s it. Confusion. Concern. But not anger.

  “Well, no. Of course not.”

  Dustin smiled.

  “But, some people do. And that doesn’t make them losers.”

  “Well, what does it make them?” Trista flicked her long nails. “They sit in those uncomfortable benches—”

  “Pews.”

  She ignored Faith’s correction. “—and listen to some old guy go on and on about what they should do and say and what they can’t do and say.”

  Go, Trista. She was on a roll.

  “And then, to top it off, they pray! I mean, like, to who? It’s not like God is real.”

  Alarms went off in Dustin’s head. Oops. That was going too far too soon. Sure enough, Faith reacted.

  “What?”

  Trista stared at her, blinking at the force in Faith’s astonishment. “What?”

  “You–you don’t believe in God?”

  “Why would I? It’s not like I’ve ever seen Him or heard Him.” She pinned Faith with a glare. “Have you?”

  Dustin leaned back, studying Faith’s features. This should be an interesting response.

  “I–well, if you mean actually heard Him—”

  “Yeah, heard Him.” Sarcasm dripped from Trista’s words. “You know, with your ears?”

  Faith shook her head, albeit slowly. “No. No, I’ve never heard Him. But I’ve felt Him.”

  “Felt Him?”

  She slid from the hood to stand in front of Trista. “Yeah, when I pray sometimes. I … I don’t know … I feel Him. In my heart.”

  So how was Trista going to get around this one? Dustin watched as she pursed her red lips. “You—felt Him.” She made a point of seeming to think about that, then crossed her arms. “So how do you know it was Him?”

  Faith’s mouth opened, then closed.

  Trista, you’re a genius!

  “I mean—” Trista glanced at Dustin, and the glitter in her eyes told him how much she was enjoying this—“so maybe you did feel something. But how do you know it was God?”

  “What else could it have been?”

  Trista’s hands waved the question away. “Who knows? There’s a bazillion gods out there, aren’t there? I mean, you hear about them all the time. For that matter, maybe it was just indigestion!”

  Faith was getting upset, and that wasn’t good. She had to stay relaxed enough to keep listening. Time to step in. “Well, you’ve seen Him, though, right?” Dustin made sure he sounded like he wanted her to say yes. “I mean, you prayed and everything when you were young. He must have answered your prayers or something.”

  Pink tinged Faith’s cheeks as she frowned, and Dustin almost burst out laughing. Give it up, girl. Just admit it.

  “I don’t know. I think He did.”

  “You think?” Trista hooted. “Man, if He was God, if He was real, don’t you think you’d know?”

  Faith’s pleading eyes turned to Dustin, and he shrugged. “I don’t know, babe. She’s got a point. I mean, if God is really there, and if He answered your prayers, you should know it, right?” He laid his hand over her heart, letting the warmth of his fingers burn through her flimsy top, dropping his voice to that low, growling level that made Faith forget where she was. “In here? Where you know what’s real.”

  He allowed himself a small victory smile when she struggled to swallow. He slid his hand up to cup her neck, then leaned toward her. She still hadn’t let him kiss her, but she was getting close. He could feel it in the way she responded whenever he tried. It was getting harder and harder for her to turn so that his lips met her cheek and not her mouth.

  He held her eyes with his, looking deep, coaxing her, promising everything as he leaned in. For a heartbeat he was sure he’d finally won. But then, just as his lips tried to claim hers, she uttered a small gasp and turned away.

  His lips tensed as they pressed against her cheek, but he didn’t let the irritation show. He just let the kiss linger, then pulled away.

  Trista caught his gaze, and he saw the mocking laughter in her eyes. Then she focused on Faith again. “I’m not t
rying to be mean, Faith.”

  Yeah. Right.

  “I just think you should be honest with yourself. God is a story, like the Boogey Man. He’s what people use to make you do what they want you to do.” She tipped her head. “So, I mean, what’s the point of praying to something that isn’t there?”

  Faith stared at the ground. When she finally answered, her voice was low and troubled. “No point. No point at all.”

  Bingo. Dustin looked away so Faith wouldn’t see his smile. Score one for the home team. He glanced back at Faith’s miserable features, the sagging shoulders.

  A big one.

  Wiping all trace of the smile from his face, he drew Faith close. “It’s okay, babe. Don’t worry about it. You believe whatever you want to believe.”

  As she slid her arms around his waist, he savored the taste of pending victory.

  It was sweet.

  But not as sweet as it was going to be.

  “I’m too young to feel this old.”

  Anne straightened, trying to work the ache from the small of her back. She brushed at her forehead, letting her gardening glove soak up some of the perspiration beaded there.

  What was she doing working so hard on a day off? The teachers had training today, so she didn’t have to go in. She should be sitting on the couch, relaxing.

  That’s the last thing you should be doing.

  Anne nodded. Sad, but true. She turned her face to the sun’s warmth. Hard to believe it was only spring. It felt more like summer. But the weatherman said the unusual heat wouldn’t last through the weekend. Good. She could use a cooling down.

  She should be wearing a hat. How often had Jared scolded her, telling her to put on a hat when she did the gardening? But she hated wearing hats. They flattened her hair and made her already round face seem that much rounder.

  Fatter. They make your face fatter, not rounder. At least be honest when you’re talking to yourself.

  She shook the thought away and leaned over to stab the trowel into the stubborn ground. She loved gardening, but oh, how she hated digging in the rocky Oregon soil. Every time she planted a garden she swore it was the last time. “I’m going to buy silk plants next year!” she’d threatened more than once.

 

‹ Prev