by Amanda Tru
Kent—not Ken—was standing far too close. Her freight train pulse and shallow breathing were a dead giveaway to her attraction. She prayed he wouldn’t notice.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just been a rough morning, and I’m not quite feeling myself today.” The way his thumbs caressed the backs of her hands was distracting. What was she trying to say again? “You know how it is, this close to Thanksgiving and winter break. And it seems like every time I pray for patience another kid has to test it.”
“I hear that.” He chuckled and released her hands. “Let’s sit with our coffee ‘til your class gets here. Then maybe I can shelve books until my next appointment.”
Ada just nodded. “Thank you, Kent.” She liked using his first name. Probably too much.
They took their coffee to one of the tables in the back that had cushioned adult-sized chairs for the teachers who liked to have a quiet alternative to the teacher’s lounge.
“Wait a second,” she paused. A smile warmed her face. “I just put it together. Kent Clark? Oh, man. I bet that was fun growing up.”
Kent grinned, his cheeks pinking adorably. “It was worse when I was a kid and wore glasses.”
“Was it intentional?”
“My parents naming me after Superman in reverse? Don’t think so. Though once I hit puberty, mom did tell me girls were kryptonite and to steer clear.”
“Ah, she sounds like a very smart woman.”
“That she is. Guess I should be thankful. She could’ve let Dad name me Jor-El.”
Adaline chewed her upper lip, and Kent’s eyebrows lifted at the flush on her face. “Uh-oh. That’s a guilty look if I ever saw one.”
“Well, you know my last name…”
“Danvers?”
Ada dipped her head. “And you know most of the kids at the school. Three of which belong to me.”
Kent’s eyes narrowed, and she could tell he was mentally flipping through student names. She knew he’d flagged on her youngest daughter’s when his laughter boomed through the library.
“You named your daughter after Supergirl! On purpose!”
“It could have been worse,” she defended, smiling through the heat in her cheeks. “I could’ve named her after the original Supergirl, but Linda Lee Danvers just sounds so old in this day and age.”
“So you went with Kara and Lee. But not Carol, huh?” His forehead crinkled. “Wait. Your oldest, Susan Jane. Captain Marvel—middle names, right? Kind of mixing your universes, there.” Ava shrugged one shoulder. “But… Xander? No comic book reference?”
Ada chewed her lower lip. “My ex is a history buff and wanted to name him after Alexander the Great, but I didn’t want him called Alex. So he’s just Xander, with an X, like Professor X. Even though that’s Xavier, not Xander. And only I’ll ever know the reasoning.” Ugh, she was rambling.
Kent’s long-lashed brown eyes crinkled with mirth. “Not after Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s friend?”
Ada’s upper lip curled, and she stuck out her tongue. “Ew, no! I don’t like anything to do with vampires. I much prefer superheroes.”
“I don’t mind a good creepy show or book every now and then, but you’re right. Superheroes are definitely better. Have to say I’m surprised you’re such a comic book fan, being a librarian and all.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Stereotyping me, Mr. Clark?” Ada laughed at his narrowed eyes. “Well, Kent, I’ll have you know that I’m a big fan of anything that gets kids to read. Whether that’s classics, fiction, non-fiction, or comics. I even keep a stash of cookbooks and seek-and-find picture books on hand. You never know what will spark a love of literature in young minds.”
His admiring expression set her heart kicking like Karalee at soccer practice. A few minutes later, their coffees were empty, and she heard the herald sounds of her next class’s arrival.
Kent glanced at his watch. “Wow, I didn’t realize how long we’ve been sitting here. I’m sorry I didn’t help you shelve anything.”
Adaline waved him off. “Don’t even worry about it. You helped reset my mood for the day. I needed that more than shelving.”
He flashed her a smile that left her dizzy. “Thanks for the coffee, Ms. Danvers.”
He left with a wink.
What on earth was she supposed to do with that?
Kent strode down the wide hallway toward the administration offices feeling lighter than he had an hour ago. He enjoyed these little sunshine breaks. Especially when the sunshine was Adaline.
Walking past the library this morning, he’d heard the edge in her voice and hadn’t been able to resist the urge to brighten her day the way she always did his. A massive crush that had only grown since seeing her across the crowded lunchroom during the first staff meeting of the school year. A crush he had no plans to resist.
“Mr. Thompson and the former Mrs. Thompson are waiting in your office, Mr. Clark.”
“Thanks, Liz,” he nodded to the admin. The school would fall apart without that woman.
Kent uttered a quick prayer for wisdom in navigating this next appointment. The parents had finalized their divorce after two tense years in which their kids had shown classic behavioral outbursts. He’d read through the last counselor’s notes in their files. Things seemed to be going much better this year than last. Hopefully, it would continue.
After the emotionally draining but ultimately positive appointment, Kent flopped back into the cushy chair that had been a splurge using his own money. He cracked his knuckles and stared out the small office window overlooking the staff parking lot.
Divorce was rarely a pleasant experience, even if it was a healthier choice in the long run for some families. It wasn’t God’s plan, like so much of the rest of the hurt in this world. It certainly wasn’t something he wanted to go through again, which was why he rarely dated anymore. He wanted forever.
He wanted Adaline. The pretty blonde had drawn him in from the start. He’d gleaned a few tidbits over the last couple months before forging a loose friendship with her. Divorced for three years after her ex cheated. Three kids she worked hard to support. All great kids who seemed to have found stability despite the broken marriage.
He wondered if she’d even dated since the divorce. Was that something she would be open to exploring? Kent reached for the tennis ball next to the desk phone and tossed it in the air, catching it easily and tossing it again. The mindless motion helped him think clearly.
Praying for Adaline was a no-brainer. Something he’d been doing for months already. She put forth a carefully ordered persona, hiding behind precision and routine, but he recognized the fragility she masked. And more than a little bitterness, if he wasn’t mistaken.
From bits and pieces of their short conversations, he’d learned she was a believer and sporadically attended Well of Hope, a local non-denominational church with a surprisingly large youth group. Kent had become friends with the youth pastor there after volunteering at several events around town with his own church.
How long ago had Jaydon and his wife had their baby? He wondered how they were doing. Memories threatened, but Kent shoved them down as he picked up his cell and found Jaydon’s name in his contacts. It was long past time to check in with his friend.
When Jaydon answered, Kent had to pull the phone away from his ear to lessen the impact of an inconsolable infant’s wails. He heard a low murmur and then silence.
“Sorry, Kent. Cady’s got an ear infection and refusing to nurse. But then she gets so hungry she—never mind. You didn’t call to get gory details of life with a baby. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much. Been meaning to call and say congrats, but it’s been crazy getting used to the new school.”
The excuse was true enough, though not the whole of it. He’d been avoiding this call, hoping it would be easier to make after the baby got older. Newborns brought too many emotions to the surface.
Sixteen years, and sometimes it still took every tool in his counseling toolb
ox to manage them all.
“—could actually use your help with something.”
Kent shook the fog of memory away and realized he’d lost track of what Jaydon had been saying. “Sorry, man. I lost you for a sec. What was that?”
“I said congrats on the new job. We missed you at the last leadership luncheon. I could really use your help with something. Oh, hang on.”
There was a scratching sound and then muffled voices. “What’s up?”
“First off, Gina says if you don’t already have plans, you’re coming to Thanksgiving dinner. And second, I have a favor to ask. With Cady being sick and screaming her head off, Gina’s wiped out. I’m out of options for someone to take over youth tonight so I can give her a break. I have adult helpers, but no one to teach. Think you could swing it?”
Kent ran a hand down his face and stretched his neck side to side. “Sure, man. Tell me what you need me to do.”
Jaydon ran through the schedule and topic he’d been preaching on this month. It wasn’t the first time Kent had filled in for his friend. This, he could handle.
After all, how many nights had he and Shaina spent soothing a screaming newborn? If he could help Jaydon and Gina get a little rest, he would.
Kent had only been to Well of Hope a couple times. The youth room was an appealing place, full of life and energy and laughter. Christian music blared through the speakers. Teenagers milled about, some mingled while others played at several game tables over in one corner.
“Hey, Kent.” A woman in her late twenties spoke softly. The forward roll of her shoulders indicated an introvert used to making herself less noticeable.
“Hi,” he paused, trying to remember her name. “Stephanie. It’s been a while. Jaydon asked me to handle the teaching tonight.”
Her smile was small but genuine. Relieved was probably more apt.
“Yeah, I just got a text from him.” She waved her phone. “I can’t tell you how glad I am. Jaydon tried to get me to teach once, but after I blacked out the first time, he knows better than to ask again.”
Kent had to smile at her self-deprecating honesty.
Sometime during the youth-led praise and worship, the seats had mostly filled. As he led the message and Jaydon’s suggested Q&A session, he made careful eye contact with each student. Toward the back of the far side of the room, he noticed a teenage girl who looked remarkably like his favorite librarian.
This must be Susan Danvers. No, that wasn’t right. She went by Jane, her middle name. With her shoulder-length blonde hair and jawline, she certainly resembled her heroine namesake.
Two rows up and left was her younger brother, Xander, sitting between a few teen boys he didn’t recognize. While Jane paid attention, Xander and his friends distracted Kent with their whispered jokes and poorly concealed snickers.
Kent stopped talking and looked pointedly at the boys. Everyone turned in their direction, which was precisely what he’d intended. Nothing modified behavior in teens quite like unwanted attention or fear of embarrassment.
He grinned at the group and went on with his message, hoping that the Danvers teens’ presence meant he’d get to see Ada later tonight.
A twinge of guilt soured in her belly as she prayed for a decent parking space.
Was God offended that she’d dropped the kids at church and snuck back out to run to the store rather than attend midweek service? Adaline knew she should have stayed. Probably could use from some laid-back worship time and the uplifting message Pastor Bennett was sure to deliver.
But tomorrow was payday, and the house was cleaned out of all food. The mortgage payment wouldn’t go through until Friday, leaving her fairly comfortable playing fiscal roulette to get the shopping done without the kids.
She guided the cart through, keeping tabs on the time. Soon half the items were crossed off the list. So much easier shopping solo.
The display of anti-aging products taunted her from the end of the long skincare aisle. Flicking her gaze down to the list and back up, her eyes scanned the cosmetic section one more time until she spotted the acne control products on the opposite end.
Fitting.
Product placement and subliminal marketing at its finest—chronological order. A friendly message to women everywhere that after forty, a woman begins reaching the end of life’s metaphorical beauty aisle.
Time to slather on the wrinkle cream.
She turned from the glaring reminder of her fading youth and picked up the pace down the aisle toward the youthful end. Tossing in a tube of rapid pimple control for Xander, she crossed it off the list and turned toward the refrigerated foods section.
A weary sigh fluttered the list perched carefully atop her open purse as she pushed the cart past a three-tiered cardboard holiday baking display. Barely a week until Thanksgiving. Should she just get the rest of what she needed now, or wait until the weekend?
Best just to get it now. There wouldn’t be much since Jeff had finally decided he wanted the kids with him at his parents’ house for the holiday weekend.
No turkey to roast all day. No baking pie after pie. No sweltering in the kitchen while the potatoes boiled, and she stirred the pots, filling every burner on the gas stove.
No laughing with the kids as they dug out box after box of Christmas decorations and put up the tree the next day, dancing and singing badly to their Christmas playlist. Their tradition would have to wait until the first weekend in December.
Stupid Jeff, ruining everything with his wandering eye—and hands—and other parts.
Ada whipped her ancient minivan into the church parking lot ten minutes late. Would this eternal day never end?
Exhaustion had set in halfway through checking out at the self-check, the only register without a long line. By the time she’d loaded the bags into the car, she was ready to collapse. And now, not only was she late, but they still had to make the twenty-five-minute drive to the west side.
Please, Lord, help me get through the rest of this week with a better attitude. I know I’m cranky, and this isn’t who I want to be.
There just wasn’t enough oomph left to get by on her own. There never was.
Never enough.
Stephanie volunteered to lock up so he could follow the last of the youth out. The foyer was empty except for a few women engaged in animated conversation. Kent looked down the hall to the right where there was another set of double doors by the children’s wing.
All three Danvers kids waited in a huddle by the doors, staring out into the dark parking lot. Strange.
The older two had been among the first to leave the youth room. Must’ve picked up their youngest sister and were still waiting for Adaline.
Hadn’t she been in the adult service?
“Everything okay, guys?” The trio simultaneously turned at the sound of his voice.
“Yeah, Mom just pulled into the parking lot.” Xander reached for Karalee’s hand, walking toward Kent.
“I’ll walk out with you.”
Adaline raced toward them, an apologetic look on her face. He could tell when she spotted him because the apology turned to confusion in an instant.
“Kent?”
She sounded breathless. From running or general fatigue? Judging by her disheveled hair and wrinkled work clothes from earlier, probably both.
“Hi, Adaline. You look done-in.”
Her soft lips flattened as she froze.
Good going, genius. She probably couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or offended. But to his surprise, her shoulders sagged, and her head tipped down instead.
“You are absolutely right. That’s exactly how I feel.”
“I’m sorry. You’re beautiful as always, but I can see it’s been a rough day.”
“Mom? I’m tired, too,” piped Karalee. “Can we go home now?”
Adaline’s attention fixed on her children, and the apologetic look reappeared. “Sorry I’m late, guys. I went to the store so the house would stop resembling Old Mothe
r Hubbard’s cupboard.”
She aimed the key fob and the rear doors of a minivan that was at least ten years old slid open. The three bounded inside and slid the doors shut. Kent darted his gaze back to Adaline. The dull sheen of her ordinarily bright eyes squeezed his heart.
“Go home and get some sleep,” he urged, stepping forward without thinking and folded her in his arms, her face pressed against his chest.
Her body went from rigid to relaxed in a heartbeat.
“There we go. Breathe with me slowly, in and out.” Kent counted as he inhaled, held it, and then released to the same count backward. “Continue that pattern before you crawl in bed, okay?”
“Practice my belly breathing?” Adaline snickered.
Kent couldn’t help his grin. “Overheard my lessons with the kids, eh?” He released her and took a step back.
“Thanks, Kent. Guess I needed that.”
“I’d say so. Maybe next week, you can stay for service.”
Adaline’s left eye twitched. Just barely, but enough for him to realize he’d overstepped. “I didn’t mean that as a guilt trip. Not my style. What I meant was, maybe you’ll feel better spending some time in the Lord’s presence, you know?”
She simply nodded and turned toward her van, pausing halfway. “I know you mean well, Kent. Thanks. And for what it’s worth, I agree. That’s exactly what I need. That and sleep. It’s been a day.”
He watched her navigate the minivan through the darkened lot and out onto the road. As he drove home, he prayed. Something was up with Adaline. In a steady, silent stream, he asked the Lord to speak truth, peace, and joy into her life and if it was His will, to let Kent be of help.
Maybe more, if it was in His plans.
Please let it be in Your plans.
She had a date tomorrow.
It was a date, wasn’t it?
Adaline’s stomach twisted in knots thinking back to lunch when Kent had stopped by—the same way he had every day the past week. Only today, he’d asked what her plans were for tomorrow—Thanksgiving—and without even thinking, she’d confessed the truth. Taken aback by his ready invitation, she stunned herself by immediately accepting.