Season of Hope

by Virginia Carmichael

  “I think you’re having flashbacks because the baby is so near.” Evie had a sudden thought and squeezed Stacey’s hand. “Are you okay now? Do you have what you need?”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, boy, we’ve got more than enough now. It’s like night and day.” Her expression settled into something a little more grim. “But I can’t forget the way it was. I wonder how many people are in the same position. I know the shelters have cribs, but we weren’t homeless. Andy had a job, we had an apartment, but we were barely scraping by. Even the cheapest stuff from the bargain stores was more than we could pay.”

  Evie was silent, thinking back to Jaden’s birth. Stacey had seemed tired, stressed out, but her clothes were all right. Andy wore a suit to work in the insurance agency. They looked like any other young, middle-class couple.

  Jaden ran up, hood bouncing behind him, knit cap slipping over one eye. “Mommy! My snowsuit makes the slide work even better!”

  “Sounds fun, Jay, just be careful.” She waved as he raced away again. “We don’t need any medical bills.” She glanced at Evie. “We’re okay, really. Just medical bills would stink.”

  Evie grinned. “I hear you. And broken bones are never fun when you’re five.” She took another sip of her cooling chai tea. Lord, how had I missed this? They had been in need, right in front of her, and she hadn’t seen it. She felt like her eyes had been opened at the same time her heart was being crushed. She’d been blind. But not anymore.

  “Stacey, could you give me a list of things that young parents need? The kind of things that you had a hard time getting ahold of when Jaden was born?”

  Her cousin gave her a quizzical look and nodded. “Sure can. But why?”

  “I have this idea. I’ll tell you when I get it clear in my head.”

  Evie felt excitement rush through her. A plan was forming in the back of her mind, and she knew it was a good one. Nothing could make up for the hurt she’d caused another young woman so many years ago, but at least she could help people in need right now.

  Chapter Six

  “Thanks for meeting me down here. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Saturday.” Gavin kicked a soccer ball back to a small boy with jet-black hair and hoped he didn’t look too sweaty.

  “Not a problem. Is this the new soccer league?” Evie folded her red coat over her arm and watched twenty-five young kids chase balls around the shiny gym floor. The noise was deafening, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying the chaos.

  “Right. Just a junior league for the youngest players. Once they’re in middle school they can join the city leagues. But these kids get left out of the community run teams because they live here.” Gavin intercepted another errant ball and rolled it back. He halfheartedly smoothed his hair. That wavy-hair gene was a curse. He should probably just shave his head.

  “So, you played soccer in college? Or on a city team?”

  “I played some. Not much. My theory is that if we offer to serve wherever there’s a need, God will honor that.”

  She squinted back up at him, thinking. “God will honor it by helping you out, or by sending in other people to do the job, right?”

  “Right. Either of those. Probably sounds iffy. And I’m not saying we can be lazy because we have good intentions and we know God will pick up the slack. I mean...” It was hard to explain, especially as Evie watched him, a small frown line between her brows. It was hard to think at all when he looked into her eyes.

  “I think I understand.” She looked out at the horde of kids kicking and chasing soccer balls. “It’s funny you say that, about God picking up the slack.” She paused, as if unsure whether to go on. “I had a great idea today but then thought it might be too big for me. For anybody, really.”

  “It’s probably not.” He felt his lips tug up, remembering all the times he’d spent hours thinking of all the ways he wasn’t right for the job, and then he’d stepped up anyway. Because it wasn’t about him.

  “As long as God is behind me?”

  “Right.”

  She nodded, clearly making some kind of decision. “Thanks for that. You probably just saved me a few days of giving myself a headache.”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  He watched emotions flicker behind her bright blue eyes. They were friends, weren’t they? He wouldn’t have said so before, but it seemed right, somehow.

  “So, my friend, why are we in this gym?” Her tone was light, teasing. Back to work was the message.

  “I know I could have called, but this is a little complicated.” Gavin dodged a flying ball and wished they were somewhere quieter. It was hard enough without the soccer-style war zone. “It’s important that this article mentions how hard my office is working to contain the spread of pertussis.” There, it was out.

  Her dark eyebrows rose. “All right.” The words were drawn out a little, as if she was thinking something completely different.

  “I received a visit from Senator McHale, and he was very concerned about the image of our organization during the outbreak.”

  “Image is always linked to funding.” It was a statement, not a question. “I’ll make sure it’s clear how hard you guys are working.”

  Gavin felt the tension ease in the back of his neck. She wasn’t going to sacrifice the article in favor of running a feel-good fluff piece. Every time he thought she’d act like a gossip-hound or a politician, letting the newspaper dictate her morals, she surprised him with something completely different.

  He blurted, without thinking, “You’re perfect.” He felt his eyes go wide. “I mean, that’s perfect. Your plan for the article. It’s perfect.”

  Her eyebrows had zoomed back up, but there was the tiniest twitch to her mouth. They stood there for a moment, a pause stretching to fill the empty space. All the noise of the kids yelling and the balls bouncing off the walls seemed to fade away. He wished for half a second that they were somewhere quieter, and not so they could talk about the paper. What were the rules about dating fellow board members? He didn’t know if there were any. Maybe he didn’t even care.

  She cleared her throat. “I saw my cousin today. She said she’d love to have that playdate.”

  Right, his sister, who had spent the past five years hiding from gossip magazines, had arrived. He needed to keep his head on straight. Work and family first. That was all. “Great. They arrived last night. And I better get back to the kids. First practice, we’re all just finding our feet.”

  “Sure, let me know when your sister is all settled in. I’ll email you the article by noon tomorrow. Shouldn’t take much to tweak it.”

  He looked over her head toward the double doors. Jose was just coming through, registration forms in his arms. “Okay, sounds good.” And he turned away with a polite smile, telling himself it was better to nip it in the bud now. Whatever it was.

  Just flirting, nothing real. There were thousands of single women in this city. The doors clanged shut behind her and he stood there for a moment, wondering what she’d been thinking during that long pause. Did she see him as a sweaty geek who spent his free time hanging around little kids? Or a lab rat who didn’t know his way around women? That “you’re perfect” line would haunt him for a while.

  The sound of a throat being cleared made him snap to attention. “Jose, sorry. You’ve got more forms?”

  Jose handed over a pile of purple sheets and some pens, his face creased with a rare grin. His dark mahogany skin made his smile Cheshire cat–like.

  Gavin felt his neck getting hot and he shuffled the forms. “We’re working on a column for the paper.”

  Jose made a noncommittal sound and the grin stayed fixed.

  “It’s important we get everything right for the community’s sake.” He didn’t know why he was still talking.
>
  “That’s the way it always happens at the Mission, you know.”

  Gavin frowned, trying to connect the dots.

  “Did I tell you I met my wife here? She was working with food distribution, helping sort nonperishables into aid boxes. Took me about three minutes to know she was the one. Took her about six months longer, thanks to...” His voice trailed off and he motioned to his tattoos. “But she came around.”

  A soccer ball sailed past and Jose went on, “When Calista walked in the door, Grant got a look on his face.” He paused, laughing. “Like he’d been hit with a frying pan.” He made a swinging motion with one hand, like he was beaning someone with an invisible skillet. “And every time he walked in the room, she turned red.”

  “Oh, wait a minute. You’re trying to say that Evie—” Gavin shook his head.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “That’s not happening. We’re...” He wanted to say opposites. But they weren’t. There was the paper, and his sister, and some family drama, and the fact he didn’t have the time to spare for dating. But if they were on a desert island, they would find plenty to talk about.

  “Coach, are we learning any fancy kicks today?” A skinny kid ran up, all knobby knees and sharp elbows. His hair was shaved short, dark eyes bright with happiness.

  “Just one, and I’ll show it to you right now,” Gavin said, thankful for the reprieve from the uncomfortable conversation.

  Jose turned on his heel and gave him one last rendition of the frying pan move and a big grin.

  Walking to the sidelines, Gavin tried to shake off the conversation. Life was complicated, and his work didn’t leave room for anything important, like a girlfriend. That was all he needed to know. It didn’t matter how much she made him think about getting a real life outside of chasing diseases across the state. Besides, if he was parceling out extra time, Allison and Sean came first.

  * * *

  “Have you seen him yet?” Lana rolled up to Evie as she came through the Mission front doors. Her purple-tipped crew cut was freshly dyed and her eyes were wide with excitement.

  “Who?” Evie glanced around, wondering if the whole world could tell she’d spent half the afternoon thinking about Gavin. It had been three days, but she couldn’t seem to shake the vision of him jogging through the gym, muscles straining at his T-shirt, hair a bit damp at the nape of his neck. He had looked like a giant next to all the little kids. A benevolent, soft-eyed giant with a killer smile.

  She smoothed her hair self-consciously. Maybe the soft pink cashmere sweater and tailored black wool skirt was too much. Maybe she should have stayed in her office clothes.

  “The baby! Calista just brought him in. He’s so tiny.” Lana waved her toward the office doors.

  Evie followed Lana through the long hallway. “Didn’t they just leave the hospital? She should be home resting.”

  “Oh, you don’t know Calista. You can’t keep that girl down. She’s got him wrapped in some sort of sling. Snug as a bug.” Lana pushed open the meeting room door. Calista and Grant were busy passing the baby around the room, huge smiles of pride on both their faces.

  “Evie’s turn,” Jack called out and stepped toward her with an impossibly small bundle.

  She glanced down and felt her breath leave her in one big whoosh. He was perfect. Amazing. Miraculous. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his sleeping face, peacefully unaware he was being admired by total strangers.

  “I have to sit down,” she breathed. Gavin was there, pushing a chair up to her, and she settled on the edge. Dark, fine hair covered the baby’s head, and she admired his miniature button nose, pursed mouth. He was out cold, dreaming whatever it was babies dreamed of when they’d known only warmth and love. “He smells like the sweetest thing on earth.”

  “Those are Lana’s cookies. Iced oatmeal.” Jack took one from the plate on the table for emphasis.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Gabriel,” Calista said, glancing at Grant. A look passed between them, part joy, part sadness. “After Marisol’s son.”

  She remembered the short Hispanic woman, huge hug, smelled like vanilla. Evie wanted to ask about Gabriel but sensed a tragedy. Marisol should be the one to tell the story, if she wished.

  “Look how long his fingers are.” Gavin stretched out a hand and pointed, not touching the baby’s skin. Gabriel had his hands crossed over his chest, fingers on full display.

  Hyperaware of Gavin’s presence, a radiating warmth near her shoulder, Evie was overwhelmed by emotions. He smelled clean, a little woodsy, like he’d been up on the mountain today. She glanced at him, feeling her eyes well up with unexpected tears. “He’s so beautiful.” Is this what it was like to welcome a child into the world? She couldn’t even begin to imagine the love they must feel for him and for each other.

  Gavin nodded, his eyes soft and dark. His expression spoke of tender wonderment.

  “He’s so Zen.” Jack shot a glance at Calista. “Don’t know where he gets that.”

  “Hey, I can be Zen.” Calista tossed her blond hair and frowned. Evie wasn’t too sure, but from what she’d seen, Calista was more Pilates than Zen.

  “From distant relatives, probably.” Grant laid a large hand on his son’s head, running his fingertips through the fine, dark hair. There was such peace in his eyes that Evie felt her heart contract. This baby had brought excitement and joy. Effortlessly.

  “Welcome to the world, little guy.” Evie brushed her lips over Gabriel’s soft hair, inhaling his sweet scent.

  She glanced up and caught Gavin’s gaze. Something in his posture changed. She sensed him stiffen. She straightened up, wondering if he worried about germs. Maybe like editors hated typos, he worried over microbes. She shouldn’t have kissed the baby. But she didn’t see revulsion there. His eyes held an emotion she was very familiar with: struggle, conflict.

  Evie dropped her gaze, heart pounding. There was a story in Gavin, she was sure of it. The journalist in her could smell it a mile away. Her woman’s intuition was setting off alarms that were making it hard to hear the conversation in the room.

  “We’d better let you all get to work. Babies won’t pay the bills, you know.” Grant reached out for Gabriel, and Evie reluctantly passed the warm bundle back to his father.

  “Must be their only failing because he’s pretty perfect, in my eyes.” Lana gave him one last gentle touch and wheeled out the door.

  “I agree. I don’t know how you get anything done. I’d just sit around and stare at him all day.” Evie was convinced she could still smell the baby on her sweater.

  “I budget time just for gawking.” Calista said it so seriously, Evie wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not.

  “All right, let’s get this meeting going. We’ve got some decisions to make on the grant money that came in last month,” Nancy said.

  Evie settled in her chair and got down to business. Working on a shoestring budget was something she was used to.

  But the awareness of the man sitting next to her, and the emotions that had passed between them moments before, were making it difficult to concentrate. She wasn’t a girl who thrived on drama. Those years were done and gone. She’d once thought that living for the moment was for the brave and the free. She’d learned the hard way it was just another trap. She wasn’t interested in unearthing old secrets, of exposing wounds best left to heal.

  But her heart was aching to know Gavin’s story, to bless the hurt he carried inside. The loss of his best friend wouldn’t have caused that sort of reaction. Did he have a child given up for adoption? Had he once been married and he and his wife had lost a baby? She lived her life in God’s grace, but there were memories that still gave her pain. If Gavin trusted her, if he ever let her into his heart, she would share the hope that kept her going—that a past like hers co
uld be used for something great. Hope that she had a divine purpose, a calling, that wasn’t lost when she’d worked as a paparazzo.

  * * *

  Her elbow brushed his whenever she moved. She was left-handed and sitting on his right, a recipe for awkwardness. Gavin shifted on his chair, willing himself to focus. Spreadsheets were passed around, funds allocated, and still he couldn’t hardly concentrate. It felt like someone was running a hand down his arm whenever the sleeve of her pink sweater touched his jacket. She looked so soft and she smelled delicious.

  He let out a long breath. He hadn’t had dinner. He’d missed his run that morning. The pertussis epidemic was weighing on his mind. He wasn’t sleeping like he should. McHale was breathing down his neck and asking him to do something he felt was unethical. Nothing more than that. Nothing a vacation wouldn’t straighten out.

  Okay, truthfully, maybe he was feeling like it was time to settle down and start a family. Maybe it was seeing Grant and Calista wrapped up in their new baby. He’d dated a few girls who had turned into great friends. But he’d never felt this pull, this inability to get his body to follow his brain. And his brain was telling him that this woman next to him was going to complicate his relatively straightforward life in all sorts of ways.

  Allison and Sean are complications, and you wouldn’t let them go for the world. The little voice in his head reminded him that sometimes love was that way. It walked in and rearranged the furniture in your heart, changing everything around, making you feel like a stranger in your own place. And when it was all done, you realized you were happier.

  Evie had held that baby like the precious gift he was. He’d been caught up in the moment; his chest had contracted at the sight of the tears in her eyes. Then he’d remembered Allison. His sister who had made terrible choices, who had given birth to a child no one wanted, who had hidden from the world until her shame was too heavy to bear all alone.

  Allison, the sister who always walked on the wild side, believed she would be a big star someday. When she met a man and fell in love, she hadn’t cared that the man was married and had children. It was always about her feelings, her dreams. But he was in the public eye, so it was only a matter of time before the gossip hounds found them out.