by Judy Duarte
Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. “No, I’m not.”
She paused for a beat, as though pondering her response. “I’ll admit to a bit of attraction on my part, but I’m really not the kind of woman a minister should date.”
He sensed that she might have a point, although it didn’t seem to matter right now.
“Why is that?” he asked.
“For one thing, I’m a single mother and know very little about the guy who fathered my son. Not that I wouldn’t recognize him if I saw him, but he disappeared from the planet after it happened.” A strand of hair whipped across her cheek, and she brushed it aside.
He hated to see her beat herself up over something that couldn’t be undone. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, Kristy. The way I see it, you were blessed with a beautiful son.”
“That’s true.” Her gaze drifted to the playground, where Jason played with his friend, oblivious to their discussion. “He was born on Valentine’s Day, nearly six weeks early. But he was a fighter, like I used to be, and I fell in love with him the moment I saw him.”
“So why be so hard on yourself for a teenage mistake? How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“You were just a kid. I can’t imagine anyone holding that against you. And neither should you.”
“It’s not that so much. I’ve learned to accept being a single mom and I’m making the best of things.”
For a moment, he leaned toward pursuing a relationship with her, and two beats later, he leaned the other way.
He’d spent the bulk of his life trying to live up to a certain standard—his father’s, his grandfather’s. His own.
The Parkside Community Church congregation had certain expectations of their minister, too. And he doubted the Delacourts were the only ones who might question his involvement with Kristy.
So why complicate things?
He’d never be able to make a difference in this community if he knowingly set himself up for conflict.
Jesse’s words came to mind. You’ll need to look beyond the obvious and dig deep within yourself if you want to make a difference.
The man might have been right, but Craig wasn’t too good at digging within himself. Maybe because he’d been too afraid of what he’d find. Afraid that he wouldn’t measure up.
He stole a glance at Kristy.
What was with this growing attraction he had to her? Was it some kind of subconscious effort to sabotage his job, his position, his career?
Or was it more than that?
Was he reaching out to someone who had imperfections, too? A woman who might understand the internal struggles he faced?
It was too much to think about right now.
So why couldn’t he seem to drop it? Why did he still want to ask her out?
Again, he couldn’t explain any of it. Nor could he understand why he felt an almost overwhelming need to make a difference in her life.
Craig never had been one to pry, yet he wasn’t sure if she’d share any more with him if he didn’t. “So what’s the problem? Where does the guilt come from?”
She studied him for the longest moment. “I haven’t shared this with anyone before, and I really shouldn’t now, but maybe it’s for the best.”
How so? he wanted to ask. Instead, he waited for her to explain.
She turned in her seat, her knee brushing against his thigh and sending his pulse out of whack. “I guess this will be like speed dating.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you. Are you saying that after sharing your guilt you won’t want to have dinner with me?”
“Or vice versa.” She took a deep breath, then slowly blew it out. “After that party I told you about, I snuck back into the house, hoping not to wake Gram. When I locked the door behind me and found the house dark and still, I thought I’d pulled it off. But once inside the living room, I found her collapsed on the floor. She’d suffered a stroke while I’d been gone.”
“You can’t blame yourself for her medical problems and her disability.”
“Oh, no? The sooner a stroke victim gets treatment, the better their chances of recovery. So I was to blame. There’s no telling how long she lay on that floor, unable to move, unable to call for help. The guilt was staggering. In fact, at times, it still is. I’ve tried my best to make it up to her, but I just can’t seem to do it.”
“Have you told her how you feel? Have you asked her to forgive you?”
“When it first happened, I apologized each time I saw her lying in bed. But not lately.”
“What did she say when you told her you were sorry?”
“She forgave me, I guess. But I haven’t been able to forgive myself.” Her gaze reached deep into his heart, threatening to unseat everything he’d locked inside—the broken dreams, the insecurities. “Did you ever feel as though you did something so wrong that you would never be able to make things right again? That you could try your best to make up for it, but that you’d always fall short—”
“Hey, Mom!”
Kristy immediately turned to her son, who was running up to her. “Yes, honey?”
“Some guys are playing baseball on the ball fields,” he told her. “Can Tommy and I go watch them? Please?”
She seemed to ponder their request. “You can watch for a few minutes, but we can’t stay at the park much longer. We’re going to have to leave soon.”
As the boys ran off, Kristy turned to Craig. “I don’t want them to go off by themselves, so I’m going to follow them. Do you mind?”
Mind joining her? Or mind if she called an end to their time together?
“Not at all.” He got to his feet, but instead of heading back to his car in the church parking lot, like he probably ought to, he found himself walking beside her.
“It’s getting cold,” she said.
He glanced at the sky, noting there were more clouds than when he’d left the house. And they appeared much darker. “Looks like rain.”
“I hope not. Our furnace quit working during the middle of the night, and I called a repairman. But I’m not sure if he can fix it again, or if it will need to be replaced.”
The conversation they’d been having appeared to be over, present-day concerns chasing off past troubles, and his dinner invitation disappeared into the rising humidity.
Kristy craned her neck, looking near the dugout where a young Latino male stood, talking to a couple of boys.
Craig suspected he was a Little League coach.
“I know that guy,” Kristy said, lifting her hand in a wave.
Suddenly feeling like a tag-along, Craig wished he would have left when Jason first interrupted them, asking to watch the kids play ball.
Still, he couldn’t help checking out the guy and wondering how Kristy knew him.
As they approached the third-base line, the man sent the boys into the dugout for batting helmets, then made his way toward Kristy.
“How’s it going?” he asked her.
“It’s all right.” She offered him a warm smile. “Ramon, this is Craig Houston, a friend of mine.”
Craig reached out a hand to the man, thinking he’d just been promoted from pastor to friend and wondering if it had anything to do with the pseudo speed dating technique of spilling one’s heart and facing reality.
“Aren’t you the new pastor at Parkside Community Church?” Ramon asked.
Craig just couldn’t seem to ditch the title. “Yes, I am. How did you know?”
“A guy named Jesse mentioned your name. He said you might be interested in helping me with the team.”
“I’m not a coach,” Craig said, repeating what he’d told the homeless man.
“Jesse seemed to think you were. And he suggested I press you a bit, saying you’d give in and be glad that you had.”
What was Craig going to do about Jesse?
“I’ve got plenty of baseball skill,” Ramon added. “So if you don’t feel as though you have the
experience to coach the boys, it’s not a problem. What they really need are some solid male role models and encouragement.”
Yeah, well Craig had plenty of skill and experience, but he didn’t think it was wise to mention that. “I don’t have a whole lot of time to coach Little League.”
“This isn’t Little League.” Ramon turned toward the boys on the field, crossed his arms, and leaned against the chain link. “It’s a special intercity team made up of disadvantaged kids who are at risk. Each of them has at least one parent who is incarcerated. And we’re using sports to give them something to focus on.”
Craig glanced at the ragtag group of boys on the field, taking a closer look at them. For the most part, their clothing was worn and faded. Some shirts were too big, while others were too long.
His gaze was drawn to the pitcher, a tall, lanky kid who had one heck of an arm. “Is the rest of the team as good as the boy on the mound?”
“Actually, his brother is even better than he is, but he’s too young to compete in our league.” Ramon turned to the side, watching the boys on the field. “The pitcher’s name is Luis. His dad is serving a life term for a gang-related shooting.”
Craig knew what it was like to grow up without a dad, but he’d at least been able to think of his father as a hero. And oddly enough, it made him feel fortunate.
“Luis and his younger brother have been living with their grandmother, but she was recently diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and is in hospice care right now.”
“That’s too bad.”
Ramon nodded. “I’m thinking about taking them in myself. They’re good kids, and I don’t want to see them turn to gangs or drugs, which is almost a given with their background and their neighborhood.”
Luis wound up and pitched—low and inside. Yet the batter swung, tipping the ball and sending it sailing hard and fast into foul territory. As a blur of white approached the fence where they stood, hurtling toward Kristy, Craig stepped in front of her and snatched it with his bare hand.
It had been a long time since he’d heard the crack of a bat and felt the rush of going in for a catch. Even the burn of the hardball on his bare palm felt good.
Craig threw the ball back to Luis.
“Nice catch,” Ramon said. “And you’ve got a good arm.”
Craig shrugged. “I used to. It’s been awhile since I played.”
A long while.
Before Ramon could respond, Kristy glanced at her watch. “I really need to go. The repairman is coming between twelve and three.” She glanced at the sky, which had grown heavy with gray clouds. “I hope he can get the furnace working before tonight.”
Craig shoved his hands into his pockets. It was definitely getting colder. From what he’d been told, it had been an unusually brisk spring.
Kristy called to Jason and his friend Tommy. “I’m afraid we need to go now, boys.”
“Aw, Mom,” Jason complained. “Do we have to?”
“I’m afraid so.” She turned first to Ramon, then to Craig. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Craig hoped so.
She hadn’t answered his question about having dinner with him yet. And while he could certainly call her back and ask again, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
A couple of drops of water hit the windshield as Kristy and the boys left the park. She thought for sure it would be raining hard by the time she got home.
She should have paid more attention to the weather report this morning, although she supposed it didn’t really matter. She was going straight home and would only have to leave the house once—for work at four o’clock. With the repairman coming, she’d been forced to ask for half of the day off.
Surprisingly, she was off tomorrow, too, which didn’t happen often. Saturdays were usually a given at the pub, but the new manager had left Kristy off the schedule for some reason.
So, if she’d been inclined to go to dinner with Craig, she would have been able to work it out, assuming Renee could watch Gram and Jason. But Craig hadn’t mentioned it again.
Her abbreviated form of speed dating had probably convinced him not to, which was for the best. If he’d asked her again, she might have weakened and agreed, and then where would that leave them?
Kristy dropped Tommy off at his house, stopping long enough to say hello to Jillian. Then she drove home to relieve Charlie.
Once they were inside the house, Jason dashed off to his room in search of his toy action figures. While in the car on the way home, the boys had been talking about making parachutes for them, and he was eager to get started.
As Kristy started toward Gram’s room, Charlie met her in the hallway. She noticed that he’d yet to take off the jacket he’d been wearing when he came.
“Back so soon?” he asked.
“An hour goes by quickly, doesn’t it?” She tossed him a smile. “Thanks so much for sitting with Gram.”
“No problem. I’d stay here and talk to that repairman for you, but I need to go home and let the dog out before it starts to rain.”
Kristy stood aside to let him pass, then followed him to the door.
As he reached for the knob, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. “I left those roses on the nightstand in your grandmother’s bedroom. With it being on the east side of the house, it gets a bit dark and dreary in the afternoon, especially on a cloudy day. I figured a little color would be good for her and might liven things up some.”
Kristy offered the old man a smile. “You grew those roses, didn’t you?”
“They were Grace’s bushes. I never could prune them right. And the stems aren’t nearly as sturdy as they were when she was alive.”
Grace, his late wife, had passed away more than a year ago. At that point, Kristy realized, Gram’s depression had hit a low point and she’d become a lot more outspoken about wanting to die.
“Those roses used to please Grace no end,” Charlie added, “so I thought Lorraine would enjoy them.”
“I’m sure she will.”
“By the way,” he said, stepping onto the stoop, “her mood was a bit better today.”
After Charlie left, Kristy went to Gram’s bedroom to tell her she was home. Just as Charlie had said, thanks to the cloudy skies, the room was especially gloomy today. “Hey, Gram. I’m back.”
Her grandmother, who was lying in bed with the television volume on low, turned her head to the sound of Kristy’s voice. “Did Jason have a good time?”
“He loves the park.”
“Most kids love being outdoors.”
Jason certainly did. He especially enjoyed going down in the canyon with his friends and playing on what they called the Bushman Trail.
The other mothers felt that it was safe, but Jason was younger than either Danny or Tommy, and Kristy wasn’t comfortable letting him go. Call her overprotective, but she didn’t care. Jason might have been unplanned, but she loved him with all her heart and didn’t know what she’d do if something happened to him.
She took a seat in the chair next to Gram’s hospital bed. “It’s a good thing I was able to take him today. It looks like rain, and he may not get to play outside for a while.”
“I thought so. My joints ache today.”
“Do you need an extra blanket?” Kristy asked. “It’s a bit chilly.”
“No, I’m all right for now.” Gram pointed at the three roses in the bud vase on the nightstand. “Did you see the flowers Charlie brought?”
“They’re pretty.”
“He said the room looked too much like a hospital, which would drag anyone down. So he hoped the flowers would lift my spirits.”
Kristy had noticed a bit of improvement in Gram’s attitude since she’d talked to Jesse the other night, a conversation she still thought she’d dreamed. Hopefully, her mood would continue to improve.
“You know,” Gram said, “I was just lying here, looking at that digital clock you put on the bureau. It’s nice and all—the numbers light up and are easy to
read at night. But it made me think about that antique clock that was a wedding gift from my in-laws. It’s in your grandfather’s room, on the nightstand. But I think I’d like to have it in here, too.”
“The blue clock with the gold trim?” Kristy asked.
“Yes, that one.”
Gram didn’t ask for much. At one time, Kristy had tried to bring in some of her belongings, hoping to make the downstairs room feel like the one she’d once shared with her late husband. But Gram had always insisted she’d be moving back upstairs soon, that she’d get well with time.
But she never did.
“I’d be happy to get it for you,” Kristy said. “And I’ll bring you a picture or two, also. Something to make you feel more at home.”
Moments later, after a search of her grandfather’s room for the antique clock, Kristy came up empty-handed. She could have sworn it had been on the nightstand the last time she’d dusted the furniture.
Had she set it aside and forgotten to replace it?
Rather than return without anything at all, she snatched a 5 by 7 brass-framed photograph of her grandfather from the dresser and carried it downstairs.
“I couldn’t find the clock,” she said.
Gram wrinkled her brow. “It wasn’t in the bedroom?”
“That’s where I last saw it, but it’s not there now.”
Gram blew out a wispy little sigh. “I’d be heartsick if something happened to it.”
“I’m sure it’ll turn up. In the meantime, I thought you might like to have this close by.” Kristy handed her grandmother the photograph.
“You know what?” Gram held the retro-style frame with both hands as she looked it over carefully. “This may sound crazy, but Jason really favors my husband.”
Kristy supposed there was a slight resemblance, even though Gram and her husband had adopted Kristy’s mom. She didn’t dare comment, though. Her mother’s teenage years hadn’t been pleasant, and Gram didn’t need the reminder.
Sadly, Kristy’s first three years of high school hadn’t been much better, and the apology she and Craig had talked about earlier seemed fitting. “I haven’t mentioned this in a long time, but I feel like I need to say it again. I’m really sorry for sneaking out that night and going to that party at Brad’s. You shouldn’t have been home alone, and I’ll never forgive myself for being gone when you needed me.”