No Substitute

by Susan Diane Johnson

  Amy conjured up a mental picture of Quentin and the flame that seemed to light his eyes whenever he spoke of Shayna.

  Without hesitation, she raced into her empty classroom and dialed her cell phone.

  “I’m sorry. He’s out of the office. May I help you instead?” Amy thought the secretary sounded a little too interested.

  “Look,” Amy said. She was in too much of a hurry to care that she sounded rude. “It’s really important that I speak with him.”

  “Like I said, Miss—?”

  There was a long, drawn out pause while Amy tapped her foot impatiently.

  “Welsh. Amy Welsh.”

  “Like I said, Miss Welsh, he’s out of the office. He said he wouldn’t be returning for the rest of the day.”

  “Did he go home?”

  “I can’t release that information.” The secretary’s tone turned cool.

  “Look. If he calls, have him call me. Tell him it’s important. It’s—” she hesitated before saying in a rush, “It’s an emergency.”

  “What number can—?”

  “He knows what it is.” Amy snapped her cell phone shut then instantly regretted her rudeness. She grabbed her purse and briefcase, and headed to the office with a sense of urgency.

  The school secretary looked up in alarm. “Is everything all right?”

  “No. Could you let Miki Loretta know I won’t be meeting her this afternoon. Tell her I had to go somewhere. Thanks.”

  When Amy left the school she headed for Quentin’s house, but his rental car was nowhere in sight. She drove around town—the main street along the beach, then the adjacent one that ran along the business sector. No sign of him. Once more past his house without luck, then Amy turned toward home.

  After racing through the door, she tried his office again. He still hadn’t returned. She called his house and left a message on his voice mail, and then did the same with his cell phone.

  She checked on the duck then put water in the microwave for some tea.

  She tried Quentin’s house again. This time the line was busy. Didn’t he have call waiting?

  Settling down at the table with her cup of orange spice tea, Amy asked God for the patience to wait for Shayna or Quentin to get off the phone and for the calmest way to talk to Quentin about this newest development. She also prayed for a way to get Shayna and Bradley away from each other.

  Amy wasn’t sure, as she sipped her tea, but it seemed the knot between her shoulders loosened just a tiny bit.

  If only she could let go all the way and allow the Lord to heal her heart.

  She sat up straight. Where had that thought come from?

  “Please, Father, be with Shayna. Help her resist temptation. Help her realize she’s much too young for a serious relationship. And Father, help me with the right words to explain to Quentin how sorry I am about all of this.”

  ****

  “I’m telling you, Ashley. They spent the whole day together.”

  Quentin wasn’t deliberately eavesdropping. He’d walked by his daughter’s room, heard Amy’s name, and stopped. More out of idle curiosity than parental-nosiness. Now, however, it was the nosiness that had him rooted to the spot.

  “I love Rufus,” she was saying, “and would never wish anything bad on him. But I tell you, it was like God put the raccoon there. Of course,” she was quick to add, “God also made sure Rufus didn’t get hurt really bad. Just bad enough that Amy and my dad spent the whole day together.”

  The tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Shayna was up to something, there was no doubt.

  “Yeah, it’s like God is with us in this. He wants Amy and my dad together, too.”

  Ever so slightly, Quentin pushed against Shayna’s door until the crack was wide enough for him to see through. Shayna sprawled on her bed, stomach down, feet at the head of the bed, head at the foot. Her knees were bent, and she swung her heels back and forth. Propped on her elbows, she had the phone stuck to one ear while she doodled on a pad in front of her.

  “Yeah, I think it might have worked. You should have seen her. I know, gross. But it was for a good cause. Amy will be sure and tell my dad, and they’ll plan another spying mission.”

  The words made no sense. What exactly had Shayna done? He nudged the door open the rest of the way. Folding his arms across his chest, he stood in the doorway and glowered at his daughter who was so engrossed in her conversation she’d yet to notice him.

  “Mentioning Lighthouse Point—it was inspired. Your mom said they used to go there all the time. It ought to bring back some good memories. Maybe he’ll kiss—”

  Unmistakably loud, Quentin cleared his throat.

  Shayna jerked her head up, her eyes widening with guilt.

  “Uh— I gotta go!”

  She swung her legs around and jumped up from the bed. Throwing the phone onto her pillow, she flashed Quentin a thousand watt smile. It wouldn’t work this time.

  “Daddy, uh— hi.”

  “Hi yourself, kiddo.” He kept his arms folded and didn’t smile. “What’s going on?”

  “On?” She stared, openmouthed, as if searching for the right excuse. “Um— Nothing. Ashley and I were just making plans.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Um...how much did you hear?”

  “Enough to know you’re up to something. Now spill it.”

  Shayna squirmed. “OK, but just remember this. I wanted you to be happy. I don’t like seeing you lonely.”

  “Shayna.” Quentin scowled and deepened his tone so his daughter knew she’d better not mess with him. “The truth, and I want it now.”

  Eyes wide, but showing no bit of shame, she nodded.

  “It started out as a lark. When Ashley’s mom told us about you and Miss Welsh, I just wanted to see if the spark was still there. And when I first mentioned her name, I thought you seemed a little more interested than you usually do when I mention one of my teachers.”

  That much was true. Something in his very soul perked up at the thought of Amy.

  Arms still folded, Quentin shifted his weight from one foot to the other all the while struggling to look stern.

  Shayna, ignoring what he’d hoped was a thundercloud on his face, spoke in a rush. “That’s when I decided to take it one step further. I tried to come up with some reason to get you two to meet face to face. I knew if my grades suddenly slipped, she might call you in for a conference. But I couldn’t be totally positive, and I really didn’t want to chance hurting my grade-point-average.”

  That sounded just like his daughter. Shayna, the perfectionist. She couldn’t stand the thought of anything less than an A+ in any of her subjects. Quentin couldn’t help the sudden smile but just as quickly forced it away. He had to appear stern. It was his only chance against her.

  “And it’s not like I ever get in trouble at school, so I had to think of some reason for you to go to her. It was one of those inspired moments.” Shayna paused and sighed dramatically, as only a teenage girl could. “I looked across the room, and there was Bradley. I knew you couldn’t stand him because of all the trouble from last summer. Then, it just came to me.”

  Plopping down on the bed, Shayna looked downright pleased with herself.

  “I knew if you found out we were working close together on a project, you’d be upset enough to go and see Miss Welsh.” She paused long enough to flash him a smile that tugged at his heart. “And it worked.”

  Yes, it worked. She’d played him like a well-loved guitar. He wasn’t sure he liked how easily his daughter seemed to read him. Fathers were supposed to be more authoritative, more revered.

  Oh, who was he kidding? He loved the relationship he had with his daughter. But—the depth of Shayna’s deception floored him. Should he thank her, or ground her? He wanted to hug her, but he couldn’t reward her deceptive behavior.

  “You were happy, Dad. You should have seen your face that first day she ate pizza with us. If I didn’t know how much you loved me, I c
ould almost have been jealous.”

  “And when you saw that I enjoyed the afternoon with her, you kept stringing us along?”

  Nodding, Shayna looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and innocent and so full of love he almost melted.

  Almost. Quentin scrubbed at his face. It was true she had his best interests at heart. And if Mrs. Morgan had kept her mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

  No, that was ridiculous. No matter how innocent his daughter looked, she was the one who chose to act. She was just trying to tug at his heartstrings with her adoring look and get him to go easy on her. No way.

  “You can’t just mess with people’s lives. Because of you, Miss Welsh lost out on an opportunity to marry a man who loved her.” OK, so it was a stretch. But he had a point to make.

  “How?” Shayna looked truly puzzled.

  “She was too distracted by you to pay him the proper attention, so he found someone else.”

  “He wasn’t the right guy for her then.” Shayna was direct, to the point, and...correct. He just couldn’t let her know it. Neither could he let her know about the part of him that was grateful for her not-so-subtle manipulation. The time he’d spent with Amy may not have happened otherwise.

  “That’s beside the point,” he muttered half to himself.

  “Well then I don’t know what your point is. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I just wanted you to be happy.”

  “I am happy, sweetheart. I’ve always been happy with you.”

  “I know, Daddy, but you need a wife.” And I need a mother.

  She didn’t speak the words, but Quentin could hear them just the same. He sighed deeply. He ached to give his daughter what she needed, but it couldn’t always be under her dictates.

  “You have to tell Miss Welsh what you’ve been up to.”

  “Daddy!” Shayna pulled her mouth into a pout.

  “I mean it, sweetheart. You’ve been unfair to her and she already has trust issues. I don’t want to give her any other reason to mistrust me.”

  “But it’s not your fault!”

  “I know that. That’s why you’re going to fix it.”

  Quentin just stared at his daughter. She stared back.

  He knew what he was doing. Shayna would protest the issue all evening if he let her. She had a way of talking around him, twisting him all up so he didn’t know what he was saying half the time. If he said nothing, she’d quit arguing and know he was serious.

  Finally, shamefaced, she said, “I just wanted to see if the spark was still there.” When Quentin still said nothing, she tried one last time. “I think it was.”

  Silently, Quentin agreed. But he couldn’t let Shayna know that. Give her any leeway at all, and she’d be at it again before he realized what had happened.

  “Listen, sweetheart.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “I know this is awkward and embarrassing for you, but when we go over to see Rufus, you have to tell her.”

  Mouth turned down, Shayna nodded and turned away.

  Quentin stilled her with a gentle touch to her shoulder.

  “What about Bradley? What made him go along with this? He knew exactly how I felt about him.”

  Shayna looked down at the floor, a blush staining her cheeks.

  “He sort of had a little crush on me. Rusty told me about it, and I used what I knew to my advantage.” Her gaze stayed glued to the floor, and Quentin knew she was ashamed of her actions.

  “How do you feel about him?”

  “Oh, Dad, we’re just friends.”

  “Are you?”

  She nodded.

  “Does Bradley know that?

  She swallowed hard, still not looking at Quentin.

  “Bradley has feelings for you. I suspect they go a little deeper than a simple crush.”

  “I know.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  She looked up at him then, her blue eyes filled with anguish. Quentin’s heart went out to her and he traced his hand across her cheek.

  His little girl. And in such a grown-up situation. She had some hard moments ahead of her, and he had to let her deal with them by herself. This wasn’t something he could fix, but he hoped she learned a valuable lesson in how to treat people.

  “I— I don’t know. I know I’m going to have to pray about it first. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  Quentin nodded. “I’ll pray, too, sweetheart.”

  Shayna threw her arms around him, and as he held his daughter, he’d never felt more proud of the young woman she was growing into.

  ****

  “Quentin, Shayna, come in.” Amy avoided looking directly at Shayna. She swallowed nervously, not sure how to tell Quentin the latest.

  “How’s Rufus doing?” Shayna appeared anxious, and Amy ushered her toward the little recovery area in the kitchen.

  Shayna hurried over to the duck and carefully scooped him into her arms. Her devotion to Rufus tugged that maternal instinct Amy was only just discovering. Tears burned her eyes and she slapped at them with the back of her hand. She was way too emotional for some reason. No doubt due to all the time she’d been spending with Quentin.

  “Are you OK?” Quentin’s tone was full of concern, causing her emotions to swell even more.

  Sidestepping the question since she really didn’t have the answer, Amy nodded toward the living room.

  “Can we go in there for a minute? I need to talk to you in private.”

  Quentin’s gaze shifted to Shayna. A disconcerted look passed between father and daughter. To Amy, it seemed as though they’d had some kind of disagreement.

  Finally, Quentin nodded. “We’ll be right back, Shayna.”

  Once they were in the living room, Amy looked back at the kitchen. There was no door to separate them. She wasn’t sure this was private enough.

  “Let’s, um, go outside. I really don’t want to be overheard.”

  Quentin followed Amy out the front door and down the steps toward the road.

  “Quentin, there’s something you need to know. You know I really don’t like being involved in this, but I think—no, I know—it’s way more serious than we ever thought.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “Quentin, they were kissing. In the hallway. At school.” She tried to stress the seriousness of it to Quentin, but he didn’t seem to be bothered in the least. And that was something she so totally did not understand.

  ****

  As they walked along the tree-lined road, Quentin decided to play it cool. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but Amy’s sudden determination that they needed to separate Shayna and Bradley sparked a thought he couldn’t help acting upon.

  “Why are you just shrugging your shoulders?” Amy sounded miffed, like she couldn’t believe he dared not listen to her.

  “I guess I’ve had a change of heart.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bradley’s not so bad after all. I told you that the other day. He’s got all these plans to turn his life around. He’s going to be fine. Shayna will be fine, too.”

  “But Quentin, you didn’t see him in the hallway with Shayna. I did. They looked a little too serious to me.”

  “Shayna’s a smart girl who knows what she wants.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that your daughter was kissing in the school hallway?” She was aghast.

  “We used to.” Quentin raised one eyebrow rakishly. Amy’s sudden blush nearly took his breath away.

  “Shayna’s a lot younger than we were.”

  “Kids mature faster these days.” Quentin couldn’t believe he was standing here saying this when it was his daughter they were discussing.

  Obviously Amy didn’t believe it either. “But Bradley is three years older than Shayna. What’s wrong with you, Quentin?” She grabbed him by the shirt-front and tried to shake him. “A seventeen-year-old boy and a fourteen-year-old girl—”

  “Girls mature faster than boys.” He wanted to choke on his words. He was carryi
ng this too far. He needed to put a stop to it now and tell Amy the truth even though he sensed he was on the right track with Amy’s next words.

  “Quentin, they’re simply too young to be this involved.” She stopped mid-step and grabbed for a branch on a nearby oak tree, as if to steady herself.

  “Quentin! You were right to have doubts. All those years ago, God really was leading you. I don’t know what took me so long to realize it.”

  Pay dirt. But it didn’t feel as good as he thought it would.

  As she stood there, an excited gleam lit her eyes and the setting sun sparked an amber glow in her hair. He felt a breeze brush his cheek and he shivered.

  From guilt, no doubt.

  “Amy, I need to tell you something.”

  She waved her hand in the air, eager to speak first. “I understand,” she said in a rush. “Even if Karen had not told you she was pregnant, you may not have shown up. And you would have been right. We were much too young.”

  Quentin squirmed under the look of acceptance Amy cast on him. Tell her!

  “I’m sorry I said I could never trust you.”

  Oh boy. He hesitated before asking, “Does this mean you trust me now?”

  Eyes bright, smile wide, Amy nodded. “More than that, Quentin.” She took his hand and pressed it to her lips. “I love you.”

  She loved him! His heart tripped and blood pounded in his ears. He wanted to hold her close and never let her go.

  The love in her eyes, the curve of her mouth...he longed to commit every detail to memory. He watched her for a minute—no, for the space of a heartbeat—and knew that was exactly how fast it would be over once she knew the truth.

  Without giving himself another second to think, Quentin pulled her close and tipped her face toward his.

  “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?” He brushed his lips against hers.

  “Do you know how long I’ve waited to be able to say it?” She cupped her hand behind his head and deepened the kiss.

  When they finally broke apart, he took both of her hands and pressed them tight against his chest. “How long have you known?”

  “I think I’ve always known, but it hit me like a ton of bricks the night Shayna made dinner for us.”