Summer Girl

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  “Why, yes. Rusty McKenna, our neighbor right across the street. Do you know him?”

  “Just met him.” Disappointment gave her a hard jab, but it felt more annoying than painful. “I’m praying for them.”

  “Well, I was surprised to say the least. I would have never thought Rusty and Star. . .”

  Mrs. Barlow giggled like a girl, causing Jena to laugh too.

  They continued chatting for quite some time before Jena heard the backdoor open. Glancing off to her right, she half-expected to see Mandi, sneaking outside and abandoning her naptime. But instead, she saw Travis striding toward them. He’d changed from his suit and tie and now wore blue jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt.

  “Hey, can I ask you two something?” Reaching the adjacent lawn chair, he sat down.

  “Sure.”

  “Yes, of course, Travis,” Mrs. Barlow reiterated. “What is it?”

  Leaning forward, he studied his hands dangling over his knees before meeting Jena’s gaze. “What does ‘come to Christ’ mean?”

  Taken by surprised, she blinked. “Isn’t the phrase self-explanatory?”

  “Not to me. My family attended a myriad of churches when I was growing up and only on special occasions. But my wife had beliefs similar to yours.” He glanced across the way. “And yours too, Mrs. Barlow—and the Minniatis’ too. Before she died, Meg said she wanted me to ‘come to Christ.’ But I just don’t know how.”

  Jena noted the earnest expression on his face and the beseeching look in his dark eyes. Her heart melted with compassion. Oh, Lord, Travis is like that prisoner in the Book of Acts who asked, “What must I do to be saved?” Give Mrs. Barlow and me the right words to answer him.

  “Well, Travis, ‘coming to Christ’ refers to one’s salvation experience,” the older woman began, “and no two conversions are alike. For instance, I was a young girl when I became a Christian. Jena, what about you?”

  “I came to Christ one night when I was in high school. I visited a friend’s youth group, and after hearing the pastor’s message, I realized I was a sinner and had no hope of eternal life, except by believing in Jesus Christ as the only Way to heaven. Jesus is God and Man. He lived a perfect life here on earth and allowed Roman soldiers to crucify Him so that—”

  She paused, seeing Travis’s confused expression. “Maybe we could explain better if we showed you some verses in the Bible.”

  “Good idea,” said Mrs. Barlow with an approving nod of her head.

  Jena swung her legs off the lawn chair and stood. “I’ll go get mine. It’s upstairs.”

  “I’ve got Meg’s Bible in the kitchen. Want to use that one?”

  “Um, sure.” Oh, Lord, he’s so open!

  Excitement coursed through Jena as she followed Mrs. Barlow and Travis into the house. But she tried to keep a level head as they took seats at the kitchen table.

  Jena watched as Mrs. Barlow reverently opened Meg’s Bible to the Book of Romans. She noticed verse twenty-three in chapter three had been underlined.

  “Look, Travis,” Mrs. Barlow said, “God’s Word tells us that all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. None of us is perfect. We’ve all done things wrong. Do you agree with that?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, then. . .” The kindly neighbor lady flipped to the twenty-third verse of chapter six. It too had been underlined with blue ink. “God says, ‘For the wages of sin is death. . .’ See, because we’ve done wrong, there are consequences. Just like when your daughters act up. You have to discipline them. Because we’ve sinned, we deserve eternal punishment since God cannot allow sin into heaven. But look what the latter part of this passage says, ‘but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’”

  Jena sent up prayer after prayer, while Mrs. Barlow paged back to the Book of John and found the sixteenth verse in chapter three. It had been highlighted in yellow marker. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

  “God gave us His Son, Jesus Christ, to take our punishment,” Mrs. Barlow explained. “Our Heavenly Father sacrificed for us, just like you would sacrifice for Mandi and Carly.”

  Pursing his lips and looking thoughtful, Travis nodded.

  Mrs. Barlow returned to the Book of Romans and found chapter five, verse eight. It, like the others, had been underlined. “But God commanded his love toward us in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” She glanced up from the Bible. “Travis, do you understand about sin and its consequences?”

  “Yep. That’s one thing I do understand.” He sat back in his chair. “The courts prosecute sinners everyday. When people break the law, they have to pay the price.”

  “Exactly.” Mrs. Barlow smiled, and Jena felt elated that the truth of the gospel was getting through to him. “But in this case, Jesus stepped up and told the Judge that he would pay for our crimes. He died on the cross for us. But on the third day, God raised Him from the dead. Jesus is alive today—and those who believe will live forever with Him.”

  “Except we have to die first. . .” Travis interjected.

  Jena noted the faraway look in his eyes. She sensed Travis was thinking of his deceased wife. “That’s the sin-cursed part of this life,” she said. “It’ll end in death. The cold, hard fact is everybody is going to die sometime. But where we’ll spend our eternity is the decision we make while we’re living.”

  “That’s right. Here, look. . .” Mrs. Barlow turned to Romans chapter ten verse nine. “And this is how a person ‘comes to Christ,’ Travis.” She showed him the verse. That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.

  “Do you believe that, Travis?”

  A pensive expression crossed his face as his soul hung in the balance. Jena prayed as hard as she knew how. Please, God, let him understand all this. . .

  “You know what?” he answered at last, “I do believe it. I’ll tell you why. I saw something different in my wife after she ‘came to Christ’ when Mandi was a baby. Over the years, I watched Meg devote herself to our daughter and me. She was so different from my friends’ wives. I felt like the luckiest guy on earth. Meg didn’t care about material things or push me up the corporate ladder or flirt at dinner parties. When she found out she was pregnant again, she put Carly’s life before her own after she learned she had cancer.” Travis drew in a deep breath then shook his head. “Scores of people advised Meg to terminate her pregnancy so she could get chemotherapy, but she refused—for Carly’s sake.”

  Tears sprang into Jena’s eyes, and she pressed her lips together in an effort to stave off her emotion.

  Travis tapped a finger on the open Bible. “And I believe this is true, Mrs. Barlow, because I’ve seen it in you over the years. . . and now I’ve seen it Jena too.” He looked across the table at her and their gazes met. “For a single lady, you’re really different—and I mean that as a compliment. After one week, I’ve seen how hard you work, the kind way in which you take care of my girls. You don’t swear or watch smut on TV, and you don’t have men coming and going all hours of the day and night.” He paused, his dark gaze penetrating hers. “I know there’s a God in heaven, Jena, because you brought Him back into my house.”

  She swatted at her tears. “Oh, Travis, I’ve got plenty of faults. But I’m so blessed to hear that you’ve seen Jesus in me.”

  “I have. Know what else? I think Meg would really like you.”

  Jena could barely find her voice. “I think I would have liked Meg too.”

  “She was a lovely person,” Mrs. Barlow stated wistfully. But then her age-lined face broke into a grin. “But it was definitely no accident that Jena came to work for you, Travis. Somehow I knew she was the one for the summer girl job.”

  “You were right.”

  He chuckled and sent Jena a wink that made her cheeks flame with
embarrassment. Good thing I’m already pink from my sunburn.

  “Well, young man, you have a decision to make.”

  “I do?” He glanced at Mrs. Barlow with questions pooling in his eyes.

  “Do you want to get saved?” she asked in a caring tone. “Do you want to ‘come to Christ?’ ”

  “Umm. . .that depends. What do I have to do? Walk over hot coals or something?”

  Jena couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up inside her.

  “No, Silly,” Mrs. Barlow said with a smile. “Here, look.” She pointed to verse thirteen and read, “‘For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ You just pray, Travis. Confess your sins to Christ, ask for forgiveness, then ask Him to save you. You come to Christ in prayer.”

  “That’s it?” He brought his chin back in surprise.

  “That’s it.”

  “Okay. . .” But suddenly he looked so lost. “Uh, praying is sort of unfamiliar territory for me.”

  “Would you like Jena and me to pray with you?”

  He nodded out a silent reply.

  Jena gave him a smile and stretched her arm across the table, offering him her hand. Travis took it, then clasped Mrs. Barlow’s hand as well.

  “Just repeat after me, all right?”

  “All right.”

  Trying to squelch her anticipation, Jena forced herself to concentrate as Mrs. Barlow led Travis in prayer.

  “Dear God, I confess to You my sinfulness. . .” She paused to let Travis echo her. “I’m sorry for all the wrong things I’ve said and done, and I understand that it was because of me and my sin that Jesus went to the cross and died. . .I ask You to forgive me, and I ask Jesus to come into my heart and live forever. . .I ask You to save me. . .Thank You for this most precious gift of eternal life that I now accept. . .In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  When Travis finished, Jena lifted her gaze and searched his face. “Did you mean it?”

  “Every word.”

  “Well, then. . .” She squeezed his hand and smiled. “You came to Christ and were saved.”

  “Congratulations, Travis,” Mrs. Barlow said as tears of joy filled her rheumy eyes. “The angels are now rejoicing in heaven!”

  Sixteen

  The following morning, Jena helped the girls dress, then after baking a pan of brownies, she took them to her church’s Memorial Day picnic. The sky was overcast in the beginning, but the humidity thickened once the sun appeared. While Jena expected to have a fun time at the outing, despite the clammy weather, everything that could go wrong did. Mandi whined and complained because she wanted pizza for lunch, not a grilled hamburger. Next, she thoughtlessly tossed a ball in the air and it landed on another little girl’s head, bringing an aggravated father to the picnic table at which Jena was sitting. Carly wet her pants, and Jena had forgotten to pack extra clothes, so she gathered up their things and walked the girls to the car. . .only to realize she’d locked the keys inside the Volvo. Three men tried to open the hatch but were unsuccessful, so Jena had to use Star’s cell phone and call Travis, who had planned to take the day to catch up on some paperwork. From the tone of his voice, Jena could tell that he was not thrilled to be summoned across town to a picnic because his summer girl had left her brain at home that morning.

  “So much for my glowing attributes,” Jena said, handing the phone back to Star.

  “You’re human. So what? Besides, this is probably some satanic attack because you led Travis to Christ. You rocked the Evil One’s kingdom, so he’s striking back.” She grinned. “But you’re on the winning side, and Travis is a Christian now. How cool is that?”

  “Very cool.” Jena smiled, marveling at her friend’s perception. Star was a relatively new Christian too. “But salvation is only the beginning. How do I get Travis interested in a Bible study?”

  “That’s God’s department.”

  “Right.” Jena felt properly chastened.

  At that moment, Tammy Bissell approached them. A heavyset, well-intentioned woman, Tammy offered Jena the use of her daughter’s spare outfit so Carly could get out of her wet things.

  “You’re a godsend, Mrs. Bissell. Thanks.” Leaving Mandi under Star’s supervision, Jena took Carly to the rustic, park restrooms where she washed and changed the little girl. But Carly didn’t like the shorts set and pitched a fit. Jena felt her nerves begin to fray.

  Deciding there was no point in arguing with the three-year-old, Jena put the wet clothes back on, only to have Carly change her mind and want to wear the other outfit after all. On the way back to the car, Jena felt like a hypocrite. She’d been tempted to throttle Carly in the bathroom for having a hissy fit, and yet she’d given Travis the impression that she was great with kids. Guess she wasn’t so great with them after all. Did that mean she’d selected the wrong major in college? Jena sighed. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to manage a daycare center, which meant the last eight years of her life had been a complete waste of time.

  Or maybe I’m still in the stages of recuperation. An instant later, she realized that was exactly her problem. After all, she’d had sun poisoning this weekend. Anyone would feel less than patient and loving under those conditions. Thank You, Father, for helping me understand myself.

  Up ahead in the parking lot, Jena saw that Travis had arrived. Star, Rusty, and Mandi stood nearby while he opened the Volvo wagon’s hatch and retrieved the car keys.

  “Sorry to have inconvenienced you,” Jena said to Travis when she reached him.

  He tossed the keys at her, accompanied by a long look. But whether it stemmed from exasperation or amusement, Jena couldn’t tell.

  “Travis Larson! What in the world are you doing here?”

  The deep voice of Derek Ryan drew Jena’s gaze. A man of medium height and build, she didn’t know him well, but suddenly she remembered what little she did know about him: Mr. Ryan was an attorney. Like Travis!

  “Hey, Man, good to see you again.” Travis stuck out his right hand, and Derek clasped it before balling his other fist and giving Travis a friendly sock in the arm.

  “I didn’t know you were here at the picnic.”

  “I’m not. My summer girl needed my, um, assistance.” Travis glanced Jena’s way and cleared his throat loudly. She shrugged, but in that moment, she knew Travis wasn’t miffed at her.

  “Your. . .who? Summer girl?” A blank expression crossed Derek’s face.

  “I work for Travis, taking care of his daughters,” Jena explained. “For the summer.”

  “Oh, I get it.” He grinned. Raking a hand through his light brown hair, he turned back to Travis. “You up for a ballgame?”

  “Naw, I’ve got tons of work to do.”

  “Okay.” A goading gleam brightened Ryan’s eyes. “You’re probably too out of shape anyway, you old man.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m no older than you are, and I could take you on in sports any day—just like I do in the courtroom.”

  Oh, brother! In Jena’s opinion, guys were all ego and appetite—and out of the two, they were mostly ego.

  “Prove it, Larson. Join our game this afternoon. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

  Travis stared off in the distance; his eyes narrowed and seemed to weigh the options. He glanced at Jena, and she decided to get out of the line of scrimmage by walking over to where Star and Rusty stood. Mandi had left for the swings and seemed to be getting along with the other kids. A teenage girl pushed them one at a time, higher, higher, causing the children to squeal with delight.

  Folding her arms, Jena returned her attention to Travis who had tossed Carly over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  “You’re on, Derek.”

  “Great. We play with a softball, so you outta be able to get a few hits in.”

  With one hand on Carly, Travis chuckled and pointed a warning forefinger at his challenger. “Just keep that pretty head of yours low.”

  Derek laughed. “C’mon. Follow me to yonder baseball field.”

>   ❧

  Two days later, Travis sat in his office at Duncan, Duncan, and Larson and massaged his right arm. He must have been nuts to think he could play softball without warming up. What did he think, that he was still seventeen? The only consolation was that Derek admitted to being just as sore. They had shared a good laugh over it before court this morning.

  “Travis?”

  Looking up, he saw Marci, his firm’s secretary, standing in the doorway. A dark haired woman in her fifties, Marci had a nervous demeanor, and she flitted around the office like a crazed hummingbird.

  “Bella Minniati is here to see you.”

  “Great. Send her in.”

  Travis cleared off his desk in time to greet Bella as she entered his office and closed the door.

  “Travis, how are you?”

  “Terrific. How ’bout yourself?”

  “I still get morning sickness, but at least the nausea doesn’t linger throughout the day anymore.”

  Nodding, he offered Bella one of the maroon leather chairs in front of his desk. “Meg was sick a lot at first too.”

  Bella replied with an empathetic grin. “I’ve got the contract here.” She reached into her briefcase and pulled out the document. “I rewrote a section before signing it. Here. Take a look.”

  Travis read it through, noting it stated that he was to act as the exclusive attorney for the Milwaukee Mavericks team. If he ever left Duncan, Duncan, and Larson, the team would remain his client and could not be handed off to either of his partners.

  “Craig’ll never go for this,” Travis said, tossing the contract onto his desk.

  “Then I don’t sign.” Bella sat forward. “Personally, Trav, I think you should get rid of Duncan and Duncan. I don’t trust Craig, and I’ve heard from a reputable source that his son is a chip off the ol’ block.”

  “Look, Bella, that topic isn’t open for discussion. I’ll have Craig read over the contract, but I can guarantee he won’t approve it.”

  She sat back, and her eyes sparked with something akin to mischief. “Come to work for the Mavericks. The team has enough issues to keep any lawyer busy, and we’ll pay you a handsome salary.”