by Judy Duarte
Well, so much for an attempt to strike up a conversation with the boy. Maybe Craig should have asked him about sports. Or, better yet, Spider-Man might have been a better choice.
“Pastor?” Barbara asked from the doorway.
“Yes?”
“I’ll take you back to her room.”
Craig got to his feet, but before she led him down the hall, she cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered, “I’d probably better warn you. She’s not at all happy that Pastor George has passed her on to someone else.”
Great. Craig supposed he couldn’t blame her for being hurt, but from what he’d gathered from Lorena, George was probably only too happy to pass the shut-ins, especially this one, off to someone else.
“Lorraine,” Barbara said, as she led Craig into a small bed room that smelled a bit musty and medicinal. “This is Pastor Craig.”
The elderly woman, her gray curls mussed from resting in bed, turned to face him, a scowl upon her craggy face. “This really isn’t necessary.”
“What isn’t?”
“Your visit.”
Okay, now what? Seminary hadn’t prepared him for this. Or if it had, he’d been daydreaming through that particular class.
Craig neared the hospital bed where she lay. “George told me to be sure to introduce myself. He said that you were once very involved in the church. And a lady everyone loved.”
“Once was a long time ago.”
Silence filled the room, and he tried to come up with something to say. But the struggle for the right words felt about as effective as a drowning man grasping for air bubbles.
“I’ve been staying at the Delacourts’,” he said. “And Cassandra spoke highly of you.”
Lorraine arched a gray brow, but she didn’t speak.
“I saw the portrait you painted of Shana. It’s hanging in their living room, and I was taken by it. I’ve never seen their daughter, but you captured something in her expression. Something …”
“Haunting?” Lorraine asked.
“I guess. It was as though she had something on her mind. Something only she knew.”
“All I did was paint what I saw.”
“Well, your talent is incredible.”
She humphed. “A lot of good that does me now.”
“We don’t know why things happen the way they do,” Craig began.
Lorraine didn’t let him finish. “Now, listen here, young man. Look at you—all full of life and spunk. You’re no different than George Rawlings. You want to spout off about how happy I ought to be stuck in this bed, unable to walk, to paint, to babysit my great-grandson so that his mother doesn’t have to pay for a sitter. And if you think I ought to enjoy what little time I have left on this earth, you’ll have to try and sell that pretty little cottage on the swamp to someone else.”
Okay, so he’d been prepared for a little negativity, but that didn’t mean he had any ready words to say, any lofty scripture verses that would right her world.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith.”
“You ought to be. You don’t have any idea what it’s like to have everything taken away from you, everything you love.”
Didn’t he?
But somehow, a baseball career couldn’t seem to compete with health and the ability to walk.
Oh, God. What am I doing here? I’m so out of my league.
He glanced at the clock on the bureau, wondering how much longer he’d have to stay.
Well, he’d better come up with something to say or some kind of game plan quickly, or else word would get out that Mrs. Smith had run off the new minister within sixty seconds of his arrival.
And then Craig wouldn’t be the only one questioning his call.
Kristy got off the bus nearly two blocks away from home. She was eager to kick off her shoes, soak in the tub, and get some sleep, so even though her feet hurt, she picked up her pace.
When she reached Sugar Plum Lane, she turned down the street. At the curve in the road, she looked ahead and saw two cars parked along the curb in front of her house. One belonged to Barbara, the vocational nurse.
She’d never seen the Ford Taurus before and suspected it belonged to a guest of one of the neighbors. She didn’t give it any more thought as she strode up to the front door and let herself in.
The television was on, and Barbara was seated on the sofa, the afghan draped over her lap. Jason sat next to her, sharing the cover and gaping at the screen as he watched a Disney movie.
“Hey,” Kristy said, her thoughts brightening at the sight of her son. “Where’s the best kid in the whole wide world?”
“Here I am!” Jason jumped up and ran to her, giving her a quick hug before rushing back to his seat, diving back under the covers, and returning his full attention to the animated movie.
She hung her jacket on the coatrack near the door, but didn’t feel the comforting warmth of the heater, as she’d expected.
Was the thermostat on the blink again? She hoped not. She really couldn’t spare the money to replace it now. The small savings Gram had accrued over the years was taking a hard hit from the salary they paid Barbara. But there was no way around the expense of a repair. They had too many cold nights left this spring.
“How’d it go today?” she asked the nurse.
“All right.”
Kristy couldn’t ask for more than that, she supposed. “Do you know whose car is parked out front?”
“It probably belongs to the new minister. He’s in the bedroom, talking to your grandmother.”
Uh-oh. Last week, Pastor George had mentioned that they were bringing on someone new, that the man would be staying temporarily with the Delacourts. He’d hinted that the new minister would be handling visitation. Then, after he’d left, Gram had grumbled and said, “I guess George thinks he’s too important to bother with me, so he’s dumping me off on someone else.”
Kristy had thought about calling the church and warning them, but she figured they were probably trained to deal with that sort of thing.
She couldn’t hear any noise or yelling down the hall, so maybe the new pastor was having better luck with Gram than she’d expected.
Barbara removed the afghan, then after getting to her feet, made sure it covered Jason.
“Lorraine didn’t complain too much today,” she said. “But I still think the doctor ought to prescribe a stronger antidepressant.”
“I’ll have to discuss it with him at her next appointment.” Kristy rubbed her arms to ward off a chill. The old house, as quaint and homey as it was, didn’t have adequate insulation, so it could get drafty, especially near the doors and windows.
“Well,” Barb said, “I’d better hurry home. Harry gets into the ice cream before bedtime if I’m not there to scold him. And his cholesterol is entirely too high.”
Sometimes Kristy wondered what it would be like to have a husband to worry about, a man with whom she could share the load of daily life. But then again, it would be unfair to burden a man with a crippled grandmother who wanted to die, a fatherless boy, a dilapidated old house, and more money going out than coming in.
“I may not get in until late again tomorrow,” she told the nurse. “I need to help cover someone else’s shift.”
“No problem. Will you be home by seven? Harry and I are planning to watch ‘The Cowboy Jamboree.’ It’s a television special they’ve been advertising all week.”
If the car weren’t on the blink and she didn’t need to rely on public transportation, it wouldn’t be a problem. “I’ll try my best to catch a ride with someone. That way, I’ll be able to get home in time.”
Barbara grabbed her purse from the hutch, where she always left it, and headed for the door. As she reached for the knob, she looked over her shoulder. “You know, I probably ought to mention something. Harry put in for a promotion, and there’s a possibility that he might get it. If so, we’ll have to move to the L.A. area.”
Kristy’s heart thudded to a near halt. What would she d
o if she lost Barbara?
She’d have to find someone else, she supposed. But it wouldn’t be easy to replace the woman who loved her son as though he were her own little boy. Still, she managed to smile. “I guess we’ll have to play it by ear.”
Barbara opened the door and stepped onto the porch, then added, “There’s another guy at the company who has more seniority, so it’s really just a possibility at this point. But I didn’t want to spring anything on you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
As Barbara shut the door behind her, Kristy took the seat next to her son and slipped an arm around him.
“This looks like a cool movie,” she said.
His eyes remained glued to the screen. “It is. And some parts are really funny.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Kristy glanced to the doorway. When her gaze landed on the new minister, her breath caught.
She didn’t know what she’d been expecting—a young, nerdy type, she supposed. So needless to say, when she spotted the tall, broad-shouldered hunk, whose blond hair was as sun-streaked as a surfer’s and whose coloring was that of an outdoorsman, she was caught by complete surprise.
Wanting to be polite, she quickly got to her feet, and he closed the gap between them.
He reached out his arm in greeting. “I’m Craig Houston.”
“I … uh … I’m Kristy Smith. Lorraine is my grandmother.” She couldn’t remember taking the hand he offered, but she found her fingers enveloped in his warm, steady grip.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, letting go of her hand.
Her fingers curled into a useless fist, and she dropped her arm to her side. “I hope my grandmother wasn’t rude to you. She’s not easy to talk to sometimes.”
He shrugged in a way that seemed almost boyish. “I have to admit, I did get off on the wrong foot. But I stuck it out. She’s one of the parishioners, and she has needs the church would like to meet.”
A slow but wry grin stretched across Kristy’s face. “Yeah, well good luck. I’ve been trying to meet her needs for the past seven years, and it hasn’t been easy.”
“I can only imagine.” His expression matured, then grew boyish again. “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t admit to understanding your frustration. My inexperience must be showing, huh?”
Her grin developed into a full-blown smile. “To be honest, I still feel pretty green in dealing with her crotchety attitude, which isn’t at all like the woman she used to be. So I certainly can relate.”
“Thanks.” He nodded toward the door. “Well, I guess I’d better go. But I’ll be back next week.”
“Apparently that means she didn’t chase you away.”
“She sure gave it her best shot.”
Kristy laughed, and the lighthearted tone almost stopped her dead. Her moments of laugher, with anyone other than Jason or Shana, had been rare. And this was the first time she’d found someone safe to commiserate with.
Pastors did abide by the client-patient privilege thing, didn’t they?
She sure hoped so, because she didn’t want news of her own frustration with Gram to get out.
When Craig reached the door, he turned, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made her heart stumble and fumble in her chest. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that he was … checking her out.
“Goodnight,” he said.
“Thanks for stopping by.”
“No problem.”
Even though there was no need for it, she followed him out to the porch and pulled the door closed behind her.
She told herself that she’d escorted him out to be polite, and that she’d shut the door to block the chilly night air from going into the house.
Craig didn’t head right for his car. Instead, he hung around, too.
A mannerly gesture, she decided.
Okay, now what?
“You know,” he said, “I can ask one of the women from the Ladies Aid to come and sit with Lorraine on Sunday morning. That way, if you’d like to bring Jason to Sunday School, you can.”
Kristy didn’t care how handsome the man was. He was still a minister. And she wasn’t the churchgoing type. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”
“Why not?”
She hadn’t been to church since before Gram’s stroke, and it wasn’t because there was no one to look after her grandmother. As much as she wanted to slam him with an it’s-none-of-your-business line or to conjure some kind of generic response, she figured it was best to level with him. That way, if he actually had been checking her out earlier and found himself even the least bit interested in her, she’d do them both a favor and put an end to things before they got started.
“God and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” she admitted.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She could let it go at that, but she decided to take it one step further, to let him know that any interest he might have in her was off limits, especially for a pastor. “I made a big mistake several years ago, and I’m still dealing with the repercussions.”
“You don’t think God can help?”
“I don’t even want to approach Him about it.”
His gaze locked on hers, and she sensed a dose of compassion flowing through.
“Church is a good place to get a second chance and to make a fresh start,” he said.
“Maybe so, but I still wouldn’t feel comfortable showing up there.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m one of the black sheep in this community.” She’d meant to chuff and laugh off the truth of her comment, but something in his eyes stunned her into silence.
For a moment, she sensed that he was looking beyond the emotional armor she wore. If he had been, that was a first. Most people never even bothered to try.
Chapter 7
Late yesterday afternoon, the boys had brought Renee a pillow and an old comforter, so she’d slept better on her second night in the tree than she had the first. Still, she’d stayed up late and had woken up several times, which was why she’d decided to take a nap before heading to the soup kitchen for lunch.
She’d no sooner than stretched out to rest when a boy hollered, “Hey, Renee! Are you up there?”
“Yes, I’m here.” She got to her knees, poked her head out the tree house door, and spotted her pint-sized landlords, their arms loaded with more supplies.
But this time, they’d brought a younger boy with them.
“We got some more junk for you,” Danny said.
“Thanks.” Her gaze drifted to the new kid, then back to Danny. “I thought this was going to be our secret.”
“I know, but this is Jason. He’s the one who found the fort in the first place, so we had to tell him.”
She hadn’t wanted her secret to get out, and with each new person who knew she was here, the odds were in favor of a citywide news flash.
They’d probably put it on the front page of the newspaper:
Pregnant Teenager Living In Tree. Social Workers Decide She’s Crazy and Not Fit To Be a Mother.
“Jason won’t tell anyone,” Tommy said. “He’s pretty cool for a little kid.”
Yeah, well, she didn’t know how cool he could be if he was just five or six.
He was kind of cute, though.
Jason tugged on Danny’s shirt. “I gotta get home before my mom gets back, and she’s been gone awhile already.”
“It’s okay. We’ll just be here a minute.” Danny put down his load. Using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, he looked up at Renee. “His mom had to take his grandma to the doctor, so he’s staying at our house for a while.”
Tommy scanned the brushy area that surrounded the path to the tree. “I don’t know why, but she doesn’t like him on the Bushman Trail, even though we told her we’d watch him.”
“The Bushman Trail?”
“Yeah, that’s what we call the path that cuts through the canyon. Sometimes we’re explorers. And sometime
s we’re on safari. You know how it is.”
She supposed she did.
“Jason’s mom is pretty fussy,” Danny added. “Mine is, too, in some ways, but she used to let me come down here when I was his age, and I didn’t even have big kids to watch out for me.”
Renee was going to be one of those kinds of moms—strict. She wasn’t going to let her kid eat junk food or stay up late. And she’d make sure they did their homework. She’d even read the notices they brought home from school and go to programs and stuff like that.
Some of her friends used to say she was lucky because she could come and go as she pleased and never got in trouble. But she hadn’t felt lucky. It would have been nice to have someone care enough to get mad at her. Like Jason’s mom probably did.
She looked at the little guy. He was pretty young. Or maybe he was just small for his age.
Still, something didn’t seem right. “I thought you said that he found the tree house. How’d he do that if he’s not allowed to come out here?”
“He gets to do a lot more stuff when he stays at Danny’s house.” Tommy turned to Jason and, using his finger, pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Sorry, Jay. Your mom’s nice and all, but she does treat you like a little kid.”
She ought to, Renee thought. He was a little kid.
“Where do you want us to put this stuff?” Danny asked.
“I’ll take it.” Renee climbed down to get it.
She’d no more than touched one foot on the ground when a woman’s voice echoed through the canyon. “Jason! Danny! Where are you, boys?”
“Uh-oh.” Tommy handed the small, wooden stepstool he’d been holding to Renee. “Jason’s mom got home. And now he’s going to get his butt kicked.”
“No, I’m not,” the smaller boy objected. “My mom doesn’t believe in spanking. But I better go anyway. She believes in yelling and in time outs and in not letting me watch TV or eat dessert for a whole week.”
“Then you’d better go,” Renee said.
Danny nodded down the path. “I’d better go, too. I need to make sure he gets home all right, or else I’ll really be in trouble. I’ll have to come back later for the rent.”
“Okay. But I might not be here until about four.” She hadn’t found a job yet, so she was going to have to start looking extra hard today. But she still wanted to be home before dark. The canyon started getting spooky at twilight.