“The kid works for me, but I don’t really know him.”
“I told you before, he’s in trouble a bit, but like this, nothing major. Just underage drinking, which I happen to really frown on. He’s not had an easy life, so far as I can tell. Want to sign him out?”
“Can I?”
Tate shrugged. “You’re not his guardian or anything, but you’re a responsible adult, someone I know. And my guess is you might get more out of him than a crying, frantic, overreacting mother.”
“Get more what?”
“Information. I want to know who’s selling alcohol to minors.”
“Code of youth, never tell adults anything.”
“Take him home. See what you find out. I’ll let the desk know.” He reached for his phone and by the time Zack returned to the main room, Sean was standing by the door, still avoiding his eyes. The two other teenagers remained on the bench, an insolent glare for Zack.
“See ya, Sean,” one called.
Sean didn’t respond.
“Let’s go,” Zack said, walking past him and out into the night.
Once the door closed behind them, Zack turned and looked at the kid, feeling strange to be in a parental role. Watching Jenny was one thing. This was entirely different.
“So, what’s the story?” he asked.
Sean shrugged. “No biggie. So we had a few beers. Grown-ups drink all the time. What’s the harm?”
Zack stared at him, not knowing what to say. He didn’t want to shut the kid down, but who was he to give advice? Lord, I need some guidance here. The prayer came out of the blue. But as Zack studied Sean, he knew it was heart-felt. Tell me, Lord, what to say to him. How to make him understand how actions at this age can have an effect for the rest of his life.
“Come over here.” Zack went to one of the benches near the sidewalk. It was pretty in the day, sheltered by the shade of the huge oak tree. At night the streetlights were filtered by the leaves, leaving the bench in semidarkness. It was always easier to talk in the dark, Zack thought.
“First of all, alcohol is not the best drink for someone wanting to race. It can rot your brain, wreak havoc with your reflexes, and if you’d been arrested instead of detained, it would be on your record. If you’d been driving and pulled a DUI you could kiss any idea of racing for a legit team goodbye.”
“Like I have a chance anyway,” Sean mumbled.
Zack leaned back against the bench, gazing into the darkness beyond the street light. “Why’s that?”
“I’m stuck in this backwater town, don’t have any money or connections. And I have a mother who freaks when I mention racing.”
“It’s a dangerous profession,” Zack commented, thinking instantly of Jacques. “Men can get killed.”
“Most don’t.”
“True. Tell you what, if I can get something put together, we’ll have some driving time at that parking lot Tate was telling me about. But only if you stay clean.”
“Yeah, not much chance of that changing. These guys tonight, they included me because I had some cash—from working at the café. Normally they don’t give me the time of day.”
“If you want to learn to race, you need to stay out of trouble, Sean.”
“I know.” The glum sound in Sean’s voice made Zack smile.
“My mom’s going to kill me,” he continued.
“Well, let’s head for home and find out,” Zack said. “My truck’s over there. I have to tell you, Marcie’s inside.”
“What, I interrupted a date? Man, I’m sorry.”
“No, we’re not dating. My niece is there, too. It’s getting late for her to still be up. Come on.”
Sean was clearly flustered when entering the truck and taking a jump seat in the back with Jenny. He avoided looking at Marcie, though he did greet her.
“You okay?” Marcie asked.
“Did you get arrested?” Jenny asked, her eyes wide.
“I’m okay and, no, I didn’t get arrested.”
“What happened?” Marcie said, turning to look at him.
“He got in with the wrong crowd. We’ll drop him at home, then I’ll drop you off and get this little girl to bed,” Zack said.
“I like staying up late, Uncle Zack.”
“I’m sure you do. I did, too, when I was little.”
When they reached Sean’s neatly kept house a few blocks from the main street of Rocky Point, Zack got out with Sean and walked him to the front door. The porch light was on and Marcie had a clear view of the chastened young man and Zack walking with him. At one point he put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. She bet he squeezed it.
Sean’s mother opened the door and for several moments the three of them talked. Marcie could hear the murmur of voices, but not actually what was being said.
“I’m getting tired, Auntie Marcie,” Jenny said. “How much longer?”
“Soon, I think. Your Uncle Zack is talking with Sean’s mom.”
“I bet he’s in big, big trouble. I would be if the sheriff arrested me.”
“Yes, you surely would.”
Marcie hoped things worked out for Sean. She appreciated his work ethic when on the job. He took extra care and learned quickly. He’d even started to talk to Sarabeth, which seemed to please the older teen.
Zack had been in trouble a time or two as a teenager, and told her about it afterward. His dad had known just the right thing to do to make sure he never repeated the error of his ways. Never busted for the same offense, he liked to brag.
She smiled in memory. Only arrested once for speeding and that was dismissed by the court, but not by his own father. She remembered that restriction—it curtailed their own time together. But he had wild ideas and, at that age, lack of sense. Slowly her smile dimmed. Maybe that was why he’d left as he had. Lack of sense and ability to see a larger picture—such as how it had hurt her, embarrassed her and her father before the entire town.
Now Zack was the wise man in this scenario, giving advice to a teenager, helping to placate the situation. Thoughtfully she watched as the mother’s expression gradually changed from angry to resignation, to hope.
“We should pray for Sean to find his way,” Marcie said softly.
“Me and Daddy always pray for Uncle Zack to find his way. Why do they get lost?”
“Sometimes earthly things interfere with the plans God has for us all. Lord, we ask You to be with Sean and give him wisdom to know what plans You have for him. He’s a good worker, Lord. I thank You for sending him my way. May the job he does bring a blessing on him and others. Comfort his mother and give her wisdom, also, please, as she deals with her son. Thank You, Father, for Your love and guidance, amen.”
“Amen,” Jenny repeated.
Zack returned. “Can I call you after I get home and Jenny’s asleep?” he said to Marcie.
“Sure,” she said, aware of just how much she wanted him to. To hear his voice, to have him reassure her about Sean.
To keep their evening going just a while longer.
Chapter Six
It was almost eleven-thirty by the time the phone call came. Marcie had prepared a cup of hot cocoa and was glancing through the bridesmaid dresses that Jenny had her print out. Which would Gillian like? She hoped one that was Jenny’s favorite. It would add another layer in cementing that relationship. Gillian loved Joe’s daughter almost as much as she loved Joe. Marcie was delighted with the turn of events.
When the phone rang, she moved to the chair next to it and answered.
“Wasn’t as bad as you might have thought,” Zack said. “Sean was just trying to fit in. I don’t think he’s made any solid friends in town. And choosing to go off with these guys was a mistake, but one anyone could make.”
“So, what happened exactly?”
“He had money from working at your place and they hit him up. It was one of the other boys who bought the beer. Tate wants a name so he can get the guy who sells to minors. They were south of town, bragging and drinking and r
aising a ruckus. Deputy spotted them when on patrol so picked them up. Jason Pullman’s been picked up before. I talked to Tate before I called you. He’s going to come down hard on Jason, but the others got off with a warning. He said they’re not bad kids, just bored.”
“I know Sean works well at the café and is friendly with the rest of the staff,” she said. “I hadn’t thought about the friends angle. How long has he lived in Rocky Point?”
“A couple of years. His father ran out on the family and his mom moved them back here. Mother, grandmother and Sean.”
“Ouch, tough for a boy that age to have no father.”
“On any age,” he said softly.
Marcie sighed. “I know you miss your parents, Zack. But you had them growing up. So how are you going to help Sean?”
“What makes you think I am?”
“The way his mom looked at you when you said goodbye.” It had held more hope than Marcie had ever seen in a woman. She smiled. “You’re a good man, Zack. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing beyond what I was planning anyway. He wants to race. At least that’s one objective right now. Tate knows someone who has control of that plant over near Monkesville. He’s going to see if we can use the parking lot. I thought I’d teach Sean the basics of competitive driving. Skills that won’t hurt on highway driving, either.”
“A big responsibility.”
“Naw, it’ll be a piece of cake. Thanks for coming over this evening. Jenny had a great time. She talked about it all the way home.”
“It was fun. It reminded me—” She stopped abruptly. She didn’t want to go there. It reminded her of many times they’d spent with his family having hot dogs on the beach. Watching the stars.
“Yeah, I know.” He didn’t say anything for a while. Were the memories happy for him as they had been for her?
“You won’t let this stop Sean from working at the café, will you?” he asked.
“No. He works well. You surprised me by taking him home, though,” she said. Might as well tell him she admired what he’d done, but the words were hard to say. “I think it was wonderful.”
“Hey, my dad helped me out a time or two. This kid just needs some guidance.”
“I know. Jenny and I prayed for Sean while we waited. I haven’t noticed him at the church. Do you know if he attends Trinity?”
“How would I know? He was at the picnic, though, so probably.”
“What about you, will you attend now that you’re home?”
“Jenny and I were there Sunday,” he said.
“So you’ll be making it on Sundays from now on?”
He hesitated. Marcie wondered what he was thinking.
“The thing is, Marcie, I’m not so sure I’m that welcome. Your father isn’t happy to see me. Others in town seem to step warily. God’s got better things to do than worry about me.”
“Zachariah Kincaid, God loves you. He’s been watching over you all your life, you know that. I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.”
“Well, I didn’t do so well by you. One strike against me. I turned my back on my family—even when they needed me. I didn’t even come home for Pamela’s funeral. Another strike.”
“You came as soon as you heard of Joe’s burned hands. That wasn’t turning your back. And you say you’re coming back for good.”
“I am.”
“Then that means to Trinity, as well.” Why was she trying to get him to church? Was it that she wanted things the way they’d once been? Before. So she could excuse her growing interest in the man who had once hurt her so badly? Could she ever believe in Zack again? Enough to try and see him as reliable, dependable—loveable?
“So you don’t think God’s given up on me?”
“Oh, Zack, don’t you remember, He’s written your name on the palms of His hands. He loves you. He would never forsake you.”
“I need to go,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “Talk to you soon, Marcie.”
“Goodbye.” But she spoke to a dead phone. “Lord, You know Zack’s needs. Please let him feel Your love, let him know You never gave up on him. Could You please, also, give me faith to believe him when he says he’s returning for good? And guidance in our relationship. Does that mean we should be friends?”
The next morning Marcie was sampling a new breakfast quiche one of the Cabot sisters had made when April stopped next to her. “Zack is out front and wants to see you.”
“Take that with you and go see the boy,” Priscilla Cabot said, pushing the plate toward her. “See what he’s up to now. Fine-looking young man.”
“But unreliable,” Marcie said, scooping up the plate and fork.
“He was a kid, cut him some slack, now,” she called as Marcie headed to the dining area.
Marcie pushed through the swinging door and spotted Zack and Jenny at a booth. She joined them, placing her plate down.
“We ordered pancakes,” Jenny said after greetings had been exchanged.
Marcie looked at Zack warily. “What’s up now?”
“You eating breakfast?” he asked, gesturing to her plate.
“Sampling a new quiche. It’s quite good. We’ll probably add it to the menu.”
“We’re heading out to check out that closed mill in Monkesville. Want to ride with us?”
“I’m taking my bike in case I can ride in the parking lot,” Jenny piped up.
“Tate’s meeting us there with the owner. I thought we could pick up Sean and all go,” Zack said.
“You don’t need me there. I know nothing about racing.”
“So come and learn.”
She studied him for a moment. His dark eyes held hers. His smile did weird things to her equilibrium. She did want to go, but for the right reasons? Still—with Jenny and Sean there, and Tate meeting them, how much should she read into the invitation? Probably Zack wanted someone to watch Jenny while he and the others discussed racing.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
“Yay, I’m glad, Auntie Marcie. You can watch me ride my bike if the man lets me.”
“You know, it occurs to me that insurance will become an issue. Think your dad would talk to me about liability policies?” Zack asked.
Marcie shrugged. She wasn’t sure her dad would give Zack the time of day.
Their order arrived and the next moments were filled with getting syrup on pancakes and refilling Zack’s coffee cup.
“You can ask,” she said, wondering what her father would say. “It could be expensive.”
He shrugged. “That’s what I need to know. If he won’t help, I’ll have to go to the competition.” The amusement in his eyes told her he was teasing. Still, if her father didn’t help, he’d have no other choice.
“When do you need to know?”
“Probably after I talk to the owner. If he’s not agreeable to our using the place, I don’t need any insurance.”
When breakfast was finished, they went to pick up Sean and headed for Monkesville, a short drive inland from Rocky Point.
Sean was quiet in the back. Whether because Jenny chatted nonstop, not giving him a chance to say anything, or because he was still embarrassed about last night, Marcie wasn’t sure. She watched Zack drive, his focus on the winding road. Did he want to drive faster? After racing cars at extraordinary speeds, how did he settle to staying just below the posted speeds on the highway?
“What?” he asked, flicking her a glance.
“Just wondering if you wanted to go faster.”
“No. I’m enjoying the pace. Gives me a chance to look around. It’s pretty countryside, always has been.”
When they arrived at the abandoned mill, the gate to the parking lot was open and there were two cars inside. Marcie recognized the sheriff’s vehicle from Rocky Point. She presumed the other belonged to the owner’s representative.
Introductions were made once Zack and his passengers had left the truck. Hal Norris was representing the firm that still owned the property.
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“We aren’t sure we want something like you’re proposing here,” Hal prompted.
“Let me get my niece’s bike from the back so she can entertain herself while we talk,” Zack said. He quickly set the bike on the ground and Jenny happily rode around, exploring the huge paved parking lot that encircled the plant on three sides.
Marcie noticed Zack took the time to look around, assessing what he saw.
“I understand the mill’s been empty for a while. No buyers?”
“Not in this economy,” Hal said. He was tall and thin with very little hair. He looked like an old-fashioned accountant, Marcie thought. He’d look complete with a green eyeshade.
“What I propose won’t be using the building at all, just the parking lot. I like that the entire property is fenced—that’ll reduce the likelihood of vandalism.”
“Oh, we get plenty of that. The windows seem to be targets for guns and rocks,” Hal muttered, frowning as he looked at the old brick building. “The longer it sits on the market, the more outdated and problematic it becomes. Still, maybe one day it’ll sell. If nothing else, eventually, it’ll sell for the land alone. But we’re a long way from that point. Come on, let’s walk around and you can tell me what you want this for.”
Marcie chose to let the men amble around the parking lot while she lowered the tailgate of the truck and sat in the sun, watching Jenny, wondering what caused Zack to want to help Sean to this extent. The huge lot would be perfect for driving training, defensive driving, even drag racing, if properly marked off. Maybe. Where was he finding time and money for this? Was he unable to let the racing go? Was this his way to keep involved?
Such a comedown from grand prix racing. He wouldn’t like it. In no time he’d get bored in Rocky Point and leave. She sighed. This time she knew there was no future. As kids, all things seemed possible; now as an adult, she wondered if that were true.
I can do all things through Christ. The familiar verse from Philippians popped into mind. Did all things include getting a certain man to find contentment in a quieter life than he’d lived the past decade?
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