by Irene Hannon
Grace thought back to that Christmas when George had cornered her in the kitchen after having one too many drinks. Recalled how he’d backed her against the refrigerator and kissed her, suggesting that he’d be happy to ease her loneliness now that she was a widow. Grace had heard rumors for years that George had a tendency to stray, but she’d never believed them. Never wanted to believe them. Then Dara had come into the kitchen at the worst possible moment. She’d stormed over, yanked George away and lit into Grace about seducing her own brother-in-law when he was half-drunk. She’d said a lot of bad things that had hurt Grace and incited her own anger. How could the sister she’d loved all her life make such terrible accusations?
That had been nine years ago, right before Jared had come to live with her. Though Grace had made an overture to mend their fences when George died, her sister had rebuffed it. She and Dara hadn’t talked since.
“I never encouraged him, Dara.”
“I know that now. All the stories I heard after he died confirmed what I’d suspected for years, but refused to accept. Ever since then, I’ve wanted to call you. But pride got in my way. I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t even keep my own husband interested.”
“The problem wasn’t in you, Dara.”
“Sometimes I wonder about that. But it’s over now, anyway. And more and more I realize how much I miss having you in my life. I was just afraid it was too late. I said some awful things to you.”
“I was angry about that for a long time,” Grace admitted. “But I prayed a lot about it through the years, and I finally let the anger go. I’ve been wanting to call you for a long time, but I was afraid you’d cut me off.”
“Fear and pride. Two destructive emotions. We’re quite a pair, I guess. What’s that saying about an old fool? But at least you tried to reconnect when George died. Considering how I treated you then, I’m surprised you tried again. I figured the next attempt would have to come from me.”
Now came the moment of truth. And Grace figured honesty was the best way to handle it. “I guess maybe that would have been the case if I wasn’t worried about Jared.”
“Is there something wrong with him?”
Plunging into the story, Grace gave Dara the highlights, then summed up the impetus for her call. “So unless I can find a place for him to stay for the summer where he’ll be away from the gang, he’s going to have to turn down the opportunity. I just don’t want to risk losing him. But I do want him to have a better life. I guess my love for him helped me overcome my fear about calling. I need your help, Dara. If you can find it in your heart to give him a room for ten weeks, it could make all the difference in the world to him.”
When her request was met with silence, Grace fought down the panic that welled up inside her. “I know this is coming at you out of the blue, Dara. I don’t expect an answer right away. You can call me back after you think about it. And if you don’t want to take this on, I’ll understand. I realize what an imposition it would be.”
“You did take me by surprise, Grace.”
“I’m sure I did. Like I said, I’d just be grateful if you’d consider it. For Jared’s sake, not mine.”
“Is he a good boy?”
“He’s good at heart. That’s why he’s trying to break his gang ties and make something better of his life. He’s honest, and if he makes a promise, he keeps it. But I won’t lie to you. He’s had some rough stretches. His grades aren’t the best, and I’ve had a tough time keeping him in school. That’s why Uplink is such a godsend. I’ve been praying for the past two years that something will help him turn his life around, and I think this is it.”
“I’m not sure I know how to deal with a teenager, Grace. Since George and I never had children, I don’t have any experience with young people.”
“Jared is very self-sufficient. All he really needs is a place to sleep. I’ll be happy to contribute toward his meals and any other expenses he might incur.”
“Are you still working?”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
“The same thing I’ve always done.”
Dara shifted the phone on her ear. George might not have been faithful, but he’d at least given her a comfortable life and left her well-fixed. She could afford to take the boy on for the summer. And with two empty bedrooms, she had plenty of room. “I’d like to meet the boy, at least,” she said.
Grace said a silent prayer of thanks before she responded. “He’d like to meet you, too.”
“Why don’t you bring him out on Saturday?”
“You want me to come, too?”
“Of course. I don’t remember Jared very well. It will be less awkward if you’re there. Besides, we have a lot to catch up on.”
“I doubt we can make much headway in one meeting.”
“I’m hoping it’s the first of many.”
A cleansing wave of happiness swept over Grace, washing away the debris of their broken relationship and leaving a smooth, fresh expanse in its wake.
“We’ll be there, Dara.”
“Make it about eleven, if that’s okay. And plan to stay for lunch.”
“All right. And thank you.”
“Thank you. For having the courage to take the first step. I’ll see you Saturday.”
As Grace replaced the phone, she reached over once more to pick up her Bible, her heart overflowing with gratitude. And as she placed it against her heart, she smiled.
God was good.
Chapter Nine
“Take a look at these.”
Ignoring her half-shut door, Bill Baker strolled into Caroline’s office without knocking and dropped several black-and-white photos on her desk.
If he wasn’t such a great photographer—and if he didn’t have a heart of gold—Caroline wondered if she’d be willing to put up with Bill’s brusque style. As it was, she just set aside the layouts for the next week’s edition and reached for the photos, her mind still on the changes she needed to call into the production department.
But her focus shifted abruptly as the photos caught her attention. The subject of each was a child with some sort of disability. One little boy was laughing in delight as he was lifted from his wheelchair to the back of a horse. A young blind girl was engrossed in shaping a vase on a potter’s wheel, her face alight with wonder as her hands molded the clay. The joyful expression of a boy with Down syndrome had been caught at the perfect instant, as he reeled in a fish. Each of the remaining photos was just as compelling, capturing expressions and moments that spoke of joy and hope in the midst of problem-plagued lives.
When she finished, she looked up at Bill. “Let me guess. Jared.”
“That’s right.” He propped a hip on the corner of Caroline’s desk. “I sent him to cover a day camp for disabled children. It was his first solo assignment. My only instruction was to capture the spirit of the event, and this is what he came back with.”
Leaning back in her chair, Caroline steepled her fingers. “Amazing.”
“That’s the word for it. I figured you’d want to see these before I turn them in to production.”
“You were right. Thanks. How’s everything been going in general?” Three weeks into the internship, Jared seemed to have settled in. There’d been a few rough patches at first as he adjusted to his new living arrangement and the eight-to-five working world, but nothing that had caused Caroline any great concern.
“Better and better. The attitude problem is disappearing, and he’s done a good job at all the shoots he’s been on with me. He remembers every critique I make of his work, and incorporates my suggestions into the next assignment. That’s why I figured he was ready to go solo for the camp story.”
“You figured right.”
“How’s he faring from the writing end?”
; “Also improving. He doesn’t take as much offense when I offer constructive criticism. And we’re going to run a bylined piece in the next edition.”
“He’ll like that.” Bill rose, gathered up the photos and headed toward the door, glancing across the newsroom through Caroline’s glass-walled office toward Jared’s cubicle. The boy was concentrating at his computer and oblivious to their perusal. “I need to catch him before he takes off. I’ll talk to you later.”
As Bill strode toward Jared, Caroline assessed the changes in their intern. He’d appeared the first day in jeans, new loafers and a golf shirt—a great improvement over the baggy pants and ripped shirts that seemed to be his typical attire. After two weeks, the dreadlocks had been sheared into a clean-cut, close-cropped style. Although the employees had been welcoming, he’d kept to himself at first, standing apart in the break room when other staffers gathered to chat over coffee, and rebuffing lunch invitations. But in the past couple of days, she’d noticed him leaving at lunchtime with two of the younger employees who frequented a local sandwich shop. She’d seen that as a good sign, an indication that he was adjusting and beginning to feel comfortable.
If Caroline’s relief at the smooth transition was considerable, she knew David’s was even greater. He’d put his career on the line by taking a chance on Jared. A chance that seemed to be paying off. She and David spoke on a regular basis, and he’d stopped by a couple of times to visit Jared on the job site, as he did with all of the interns. For reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely, she found herself looking forward to those visits. Much more than was prudent. When Jared’s internship ended, there would be little reason for David to stay in touch. Considering her antipathy toward the man just a few weeks before, she should be happy about that. Instead, she felt melancholy, which in turn made her feel uncomfortable. Again, for reasons she wasn’t inclined to scrutinize.
To distract herself, Caroline turned toward her credenza and opened the top drawer. Withdrawing the envelope she’d placed there last week, she scanned the announcement from the national journalism association about a competition for high school students. Winners would attend a two-week intensive program in New York conducted by major names in the fields of journalism and photography. The entry required at least one letter of recommendation from a member of the professional organization, as well as a feature story written and photographed by the entrant. When Caroline had seen it, she’d thought of Jared at once. With some judicious coaching, she’d pit his work not just against other students, but against many pros she’d met. Since the deadline wasn’t for six weeks, she’d been biding her time, waiting to see how things worked out with the internship. But at this point, she saw no reason to delay suggesting that he enter.
Just then Jared rose, and Bill laid a hand on his shoulder. Where once he would have flinched, now she saw a quick grin flash across the boy’s face. Another positive sign, she thought. As she headed for her door to discuss the competition with him, he reached for his backpack under the desk. Checking her watch, she noted that it was already after five—and he had a bus to catch. His great-aunt’s home wasn’t far, but the bus schedule in the county was somewhat limited, and if he missed his ride it would be a long walk. Deciding that their discussion could wait until first thing the next morning, Caroline put the competition materials aside and went back to work.
Almost three hours passed before quitting time came for her. The day before the paper went to press was always grueling. Then again, she hadn’t gotten into journalism for its regular hours, she thought, a wry grin tugging at her lips as she reached for her tote. Hoisting it on her shoulder, she was just about to switch off the light in her office when her phone rang.
The temptation to ignore it was strong. She wasn’t anxious to extend her already long day. Nevertheless, she circled back around her desk to check her caller ID, hesitating at the unfamiliar number. What if it was a hot lead for a great story? Her journalistic training kicked in, and ignoring the hunger pangs that told her it was well past dinnertime, she reached for the phone.
“Caroline James.”
“Caroline, it’s David. I tried your home number, but when I didn’t get an answer I took a chance you might still be at the office.”
The sound of his voice brought a smile to her lips. “Mondays are always late nights for me because we go to press on Tuesday. I was just heading out.”
“Well, I don’t want to delay you. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop off the midterm evaluation form instead of mailing it. We always ask our mentors to give us a brief written progress report on their intern halfway through the program. Is there a night slot I could leave it in?”
“How far away are you?”
“About five minutes.”
“I’ll just wait for you in the lobby.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“No. I could use a couple of minutes to sit and veg.”
“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
As it turned out, David didn’t arrive for almost fifteen minutes. When she finally saw him striding down the sidewalk, his suit-and-tie attire suggested that he, too, had had a long workday. She met him at the door before he could even press the buzzer.
“Sorry for the delay,” he apologized. “I got stopped by a train a few blocks up on Kirkwood Road.”
Smiling, she reached for the envelope he held out to her and slid it into her shoulder tote. “It happens all the time. There’s a route over the tracks, but only the locals know about it. I’ll give you directions sometime.”
“Thanks.”
When he hesitated, Caroline searched his face. He looked tired, she thought. As if he’d not only been putting in long hours, but perhaps investing too much of himself in his job—worrying about the students, worrying about making the program a success, worrying about fulfilling the plan he seemed to feel that God had for him. That was another difference between the two brothers, she mused. Michael hadn’t been a worrier. Or much of a planner. He’d always lived for the moment, choosing to let tomorrow take care of itself. A worrier herself, Caroline had found that quality appealing—and liberating. But while she’d agreed with Michael that worry taken to extremes was counterproductive and could rob you of today, in retrospect she realized that he may have erred too much in the other direction. Worry in moderation could be constructive, allowing you to avoid mistakes. It could also foster compassion. The trick was finding the balance.
Caroline suspected that David hadn’t done that yet. That he still took on the cares of those entrusted to him as if they were his own. Including every student in the Uplink program. And one student in particular. His next question confirmed her suspicion.
“How’s Jared doing?”
“Great. Bill showed me some photos today that Jared took on his first solo assignment, a day camp for disabled children. They were fabulous. Every one displayed the signature quality we noticed in the work in his portfolio. And we’re going to run a bylined story in the next edition. His writing was good to begin with, but it’s gotten even better.”
The subtle relaxing of David’s features told her he welcomed that news even before he spoke. “I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced over her shoulder, to the darkened offices. “Are you the last one here?”
“The managing editor is always the last to leave. At least on pre-press days. It goes with the territory.”
“Can I walk you to your car?”
Surprised, she shook her head. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. There’s a lot right behind the building. I’m just going to set the night alarm and pull the front door shut behind me, then head down the alley.” She punched some numbers into the keypad beside the door, then stepped outside.
As she twisted the handle of the door to confirm that it had locked, David gave the narrow, dim passage a quick look. “I’d feel better about it i
f you’d let me see you to your car. My mother always told me that a gentleman should never let a lady walk down a dark alley alone.” His lips quirked into a grin.
David was a gentleman, no question about that, Caroline reflected as she hoisted her shoulder tote higher. Even her mother would approve of his good manners. Not that it mattered, of course. It wasn’t as if they were dating or anything.
But I wish we were.
The wistful but startling thought came to her unbidden. How in the world could she even think such a thing? This was the brother of the man she’d loved. The man she still loved. She wasn’t interested in getting involved with any man, let alone this man. It just felt...wrong.
As David waited for Caroline’s response, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the expressions flitting across her face. But he hoped she wasn’t insulted. In today’s politically correct world, it was sometimes hard to know just how chivalrous to be with women. “I know the offer is a bit old-fashioned, and to someone who’s spent time in the Middle East it may seem like overkill. I hope I didn’t offend you.”
With an effort, Caroline reined in her wayward thoughts and tamped down the sudden staccato beat of her heart. “No. Not at all. I guess I’ve just gotten so used to taking care of myself that the offer surprised me. Thank you.” Without waiting for him to respond, she headed for the alley.
He followed close behind her, since the passage wasn’t wide enough to accommodate them side by side. Most of the time Caroline exited out the back door, right into the parking lot. She’d only used this route once or twice. And never in the evening. Even though it stayed light quite late this time of year, dusk had settled, and the deep shadows between the buildings were a bit unnerving. Despite the fact that she considered Kirkwood safe, and that she’d been alone in far more dangerous situations on assignments, she found David’s presence comforting. It made her feel protected. While his offer might have been prompted by mere courtesy, it nevertheless made her feel cared for. And special, somehow.