Caleb chuckled. “That’ll make his day when you tell him.”
“He seems like a good guy.” Paige glanced at a cart selling gelato.
“Smalls has a good heart.” Caleb adjusted the bag of vegetables he carried. Ever since the first day at Sarah’s Home, he’d wanted to find a way to warn Paige about getting close to the boy because of the family’s connections. “But both of his older brothers are heavily involved in one of the gangs, so I worry about him a lot.”
“Don’t you see?” She stopped in her tracks and a small child darted around her. “That’s why the work each of us do at Sarah’s Home is so important.”
Images of Smalls’s brothers, Pete and Cameron, popped into his head. “We didn’t save his older brothers.”
“But you offered them another option.”
“You really have a heart for the students there.” He stared at her—the genuine hope in her voice and the shine in her eyes made him soften about Sarah’s Home for the first time in a long time.
“I guess I believe everyone deserves equal opportunities.”
He swallowed hard. “Which means you’re still set on serving there in a long-term capacity?”
“Absolutely.”
He let out a long breath. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“You’re not getting rid of me. You know that, right?”
“I’d still like you to reconsider.” And not because of any close ties to kids that might break her heart by disappointing her.
Paige stepped closer. “Just so you know—I did think about what you said the other day. I weighed the dangers, but I’m still going to be volunteering. Even if you don’t like that.”
“Can you at least promise me that you’ll only go if I’m going to be there? I’d feel more comfortable about it if you’d agree to that.” He put both his hands up to stop her from starting to talk. “Now, before you answer, let me tell you that I’ve only missed one night in the past two years.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like there’s much to promise.”
If he had his way, he wouldn’t miss another day as long as Paige was going to be there. Sarah’s Home needed him more than ever.
* * *
After Caleb left, Paige bought an ice-cream cone from Founder’s Creamery and snagged a seat in the gazebo. She pulled up the email function on her phone and opened the note she’d received from Mom late last night. She hadn’t thought they’d been serious about selling the place, but in less than a week her parents had found a buyer for her childhood home. When the sale happened, one more familiar thing would be gone from her life.
Paige rested her head in her free hand. Knowing her mother, she’d already started packing up the house, and Paige did not want Mom sifting through all her belongings. They were boxed in the garage at the moment, but when it came to her mother, anything was game. She made a note to talk to Maggie to find out if there was a place she could store her extra things if she went to get them.
Knowing she’d never spend another night under the roof of the home she grew up in stung a little bit. Then again, it also served as yet more confirmation that moving to Goose Harbor had been the right decision.
A couple of girls she knew as students congregated on the gazebo steps but didn’t seem to notice her. They pointed at Amy, who happened to be strutting around the market in spandex pants and a sports bra, and started laughing.
“How much work do you think she’s had done?” One girl snorted.
“Oh, tons. No one has a chest like that without surgery.”
Amy now walked within earshot, but the girls weren’t paying attention.
“She’s such a joke. No one likes her.”
“Please feel sorry for me...I’m stuck on the volleyball team with her.”
“My dad said when she was in high school she slept with the whole football team and still no one asked her to prom.”
“She’s pathetic.”
Why were girls so mean to each other? Paige’s throat clammed up even though she wanted to tell them to stop.
Amy glanced over her shoulder at them and then made a beeline for the town hall. She swiped under her eyes before pushing through the front door. The sight finally spurred Paige to action.
She snapped to her feet and surged forward. “Girls, it’s not okay to talk about someone like that.”
They all froze—clearly unaware that she’d been sitting a few feet from them.
Finally one of them regained her composure. “She couldn’t hear us.”
They didn’t get it.
“That doesn’t matter. It’s called respecting people and respecting other women. Being a girl in this world is difficult enough—we don’t need to spend our time cutting each other down.” Paige joined them on the steps. “Beyond that, she’s a teacher at your school so she deserves your respect.”
The shortest girl crossed her arms and jutted out her chin. “That doesn’t mean we have to like her.”
Paige sighed. “You’re right to a point. We all click with some people and not with others and don’t have control over that, but we do have control over our words and how we treat people. I want better for you girls than to use your words and conversations to hurt others or convince yourself you’re better than someone.”
They all mumbled that they understood, but who knew? She caught the short one rolling her eyes as they walked away. Paige was sure to end up in a Twitter status.
Collecting her bags, Paige made a split-second decision to check on Amy. If she had heard...
She crossed the street and opened the front door to the building. While the main portion of the town hall wasn’t open on the weekends, the small lobby had access to restrooms and was left unlocked during the farmer’s market. Paige walked into the women’s restroom. Amy dabbed at her eyes in the farthest mirror. Clearly she’d been crying.
Paige approached her slowly. “Are you okay?”
Amy scowled at her. “You must have loved overhearing that. What a riot for you.”
“Actually, I hated it.” Paige balanced her purse and bag on the sink. “No one should talk about another person like that.”
Amy faced her. “What if what they said was true? What if I’ve done every single thing they said?” Her face crumpled. “No wonder people hate me.”
Paige debated moving closer to hug her, but Amy wouldn’t have received that well.
Help me say the right thing.
Paige ducked into a stall and collected a long strip of toilet paper. She handed it to Amy. “If what they said was true, all that stuff happened in the past. If you don’t want those things to be true, you don’t have to be that person tomorrow. That’s the best thing about each day—it’s the chance for a do-over in life.”
“But that stuff doesn’t go away.”
“Sure. It’ll always be a part of your makeup. It all adds to your story and shapes who you become, but it doesn’t have to be who you are. Does that make sense?” Paige offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Maybe.”
“Can I do anything for you?”
Amy turned her back on Paige. She yanked a hooded sweatshirt from her bag and tugged it on over her sports bra. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Of course not.”
Amy wanted to be left alone, so Paige gathered her bags and made the trek back to the West Oaks Inn. The whole walk home Paige thought about her conversation with Amy. The woman had so much in her past that held her back. Amy could have been a well-liked person if she would let go of the baggage and drop the prickly exterior in order to open herself up to others.
She paused on the bridge and traced her fingers over the petals in the latest bouquet Ida had left for her dead husband.
Ida dwelled on yesterday too, but she didn’t let it tarnish her warm persona.
What in Paige’s life did she need to leave in the past in order to move forward and be different tomorrow?
Distrust, disappointment and hurt.
The words winged their way across her heart. Despite what it looked like, no one had the perfect life—not Maggie, not Amy, not Ida, not Caleb, and she’d only just met her, but probably not Shelby, either. Yet they seemed able to open themselves up to people and trust others.
Perhaps Paige could do the same.
Chapter Eight
Paige slung the heavy messenger bag over her shoulder and headed into Sarah’s Home. After three weeks of working with the students and seeing their potential, tonight she was excited to share her plan to help them go to college. When she pushed through the front door, Smalls and two more of the students were there to greet her.
“You came back.” Smalls grinned.
She nodded as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside the building. “You always sound so surprised.” Paige motioned for the three students to follow her into the side room where there were tables that could accommodate all of them. Thankfully, these were the three students she had decided to hunt down tonight to talk to because they were seniors in high school or, like Smalls, had graduated already.
“That’s because each time you leave I always think that’s the last time we’ll see you. No disrespect, but a pretty woman like you just don’t belong on this side of Brookside. People like you don’t stick around in places like this. You’re too good for it.”
Her heart twisted in a knot. People like you. Who had told the teen such a thing?
Praying for the right words, Paige set her bag on the table and then looked up, making sure she had the attention of all three of the students. “That’s not true.” She paused to make eye contact with each of them. “There is no such thing as people like me, okay? There are just people, and we all have value. Not one person is better or worth more than another.”
She pulled the stack of pamphlets and college booklets out of her bag. “At the school where I work, we have a whole wall of information about colleges, and I noticed that there was nothing available like that here so I brought some with me tonight.” She fanned the booklets full of flashy photos of college students smiling in dorm rooms and chatting on manicured lawns across the table.
Smalls crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “That’s because none of us go to college. We can’t even get out of this city. No one here’s got the money for that.”
The girl seated next to Smalls leafed through a catalog for one of the state universities. “Let’s be straight, Miss W. We barely make it out of high school.”
Paige pursed her lips for a minute. She wanted to scream. Who had taught these students that education was out of their reach? Who told them they were stuck without hope?
Give them hope.
She took a deep breath. “I believe that each of you is capable of going on to college because I think every single one of you has ideas that can change the world.”
Smalls pushed back in his seat and narrowed his eyes at the stack of catalogs. “A body doesn’t have to go to school to change the world.”
“You’re right.” Paige nodded. “Completely right. But if you wanted to go to college, I wanted you to know that it’s a very real option.”
“Belief doesn’t pay the bills.” The girl wistfully sighed and placed the college handout back on top of the stack.
“No, it doesn’t.” Paige pulled another bundle of paperwork out from her bag. “But scholarships and grants, along with work-study programs, can help. Right here in my hands I’m holding the information for more than thirty scholarships that you could each be eligible for. I spent last weekend researching each of them, and I really think any of you have a good chance.”
She handed a packet for a small college nearby that awarded money to people wishing to pursue creative writing and performance to Smalls. With his love of slam poetry, he’d be a shoo-in for the university’s program.
Smalls scanned the paper. “You did all this...for us?”
“It wasn’t much.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Looks like an awful lot.”
“If anyone is interested, I’m happy to help you with entrance essays and the paperwork for the scholarships. I’ll walk with you through each step if you want.” She squeezed the hand of the student who’d stayed silent. “I’ll even drive you to college visits if you decide you’re considering one of them.”
“Thank you.” The girl next to Smalls breathed the words more than said them.
* * *
Caleb stood in the doorway listening to Paige talk to the seniors about going to college. He’d never thought about taking them through the college-application process, let alone arranging college visits. But that was because these teens didn’t want to go to college. Besides, even if they wanted to, most of their grades wouldn’t garner them acceptance to a lot of places.
He cleared his throat. “Marty’s serving up root-beer floats in the kitchen and says he’s going to start his talk on managing money in about five minutes. You guys might want to head in there before everything’s gone.”
“What money are we supposed to be managing?” Smalls laughed. He tapped on Caleb’s bicep on his way into the hall. “Unless you let me manage your money—I’d only take a little off the top.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Caleb grinned at him. The two other students filed out of the room, each with some of Paige’s college paperwork under their arms.
Paige left her bag on the table and moved to follow the students, but Caleb caught her arm before she could leave. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure.” The word might have been casual, but the tilt of her head was not.
“Listen. I think it’s great that you believe in the kids and want to give them some hope.” Caleb tried to think of the correct words.
“But.” Paige crossed her arms and raised her chin. “It sounds like you’re about to say that I shouldn’t believe in them.”
He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “But maybe encouraging them to try the impossible isn’t the best thing.”
“The impossible?” Her voice went higher.
“The reality is that most of these kids aren’t cut out for college.”
“One, they aren’t kids. They’re young adults who are about to be considered independents in the world, and we need to prepare them for that.” She uncrossed her arms, her hands landing on her hips. “And two, what’s the point of having a place like Sarah’s Home if the person running the show doesn’t believe in the students here?”
The conversation was getting out of hand quickly.
Caleb motioned frantically with his palms toward the ground. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why?” Paige took a step closer. Her hands were fisted at her sides now, her arms shaking. “Are you afraid they’ll find out that their leader doesn’t even believe in them enough to offer a chance to get out of this city? I’m really glad the board calls the shots and not you.”
He closed the door to muffle their voices. Hopefully no one down the hall had heard her. When he turned back around, she raised her eyebrows and tapped her foot. If they weren’t in the middle of a debate, the sight would have made him smile. She was too small to ever look intimidating.
She wasn’t understanding. He believed in these students. Didn’t he? Of course he did. But he also knew their situations and realities.
Caleb took a deep breath. “The fact of the matter is that some of them will never get out of this city. That’s just how life here is. Sarah’s Home exists to teach them to thrive here and show them that it’s possible to live in Brookside wit
hout turning to crime.”
“But—”
He straightened his spine. “Telling them that they can achieve whatever their heart’s desire is only setting them up to fail. Is that the best? Letting them face even more disappointments and discouragement than they’ve all already had to live through?”
Paige grabbed the door handle. “They deserve the chance to try if they want to. I’m not saying college is a fix-all for all their problems, or even that it’s for all of them. But every single one of them should know that if that’s what they want then all of us here will do whatever it takes to help them because we believe in them and want the best for them. Period. And if that’s not the case, then Sarah’s Home should close its doors tonight and never open again.”
She yanked open the door and fast-walked down the hall.
Caleb sank into a nearby chair and rested his head in his hands. He replayed the conversation and cringed at his own words. Paige was right. He’d stopped believing in the students here. Sarah’s Home had become an obligation—a task to complete to honor Sarah—no longer a place he rushed to because he cared about the individual students. When had that shift happened? Where had his joy in serving gone?
He glanced around the room, his gaze landing on the pile of college catalogs. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, having Paige around was the best thing for Sarah’s Home. For the students. For him. She was changing his heart more than he cared to acknowledge at the moment. Paige cared about these teens and their future. Really cared.
Now Caleb wanted to care again, too.
* * *
“Who knew finding a place to rent would be that easy?” Maggie dried off the glass mason jars she had the inn guests use for drinking lemonade on the porch. “Usually the rentals are hard to come by because even though they free up some in the off-season, tourists still rent them for weekend use year-round.”
Paige scanned her phone and searched for the closest place she could rent a small truck. Before her courage waned, she needed to get on the road to Chicago, face her parents and their questions again and collect the rest of her stuff.
Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 Page 53