When Snowflakes Never Cease (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  “Guess I should. I don’t want them to feel blindsided. I just… I haven’t felt ready to do this yet.”

  “It’s really okay. I promise.”

  Ada lifted a questioning brow.

  “We’ve already talked about it. I told Kare not to ask you about it until you were ready to tell us yourself.”

  Shaking her head, Ada felt her cheeks tighten, attempting to restrain a full laugh. “You’re saying I’ve been freaking out for nothing?”

  “Basically. I mean, I know you always want everything perfect before anyone comes over, but yeah. You’re a little over the top today. You could’ve just told us and been your usual level of neurotic instead.”

  “Thanks for that.” She snorted at the teasing behind her daughter’s matter-of-fact delivery.

  Her eyes skimmed to the words across Jane’s shirt. Sarcastic? Me? Never.

  Fitting. “I love you, kid.”

  “Love you too, Mom. But FYI, you’re down to like forty-five minutes. How about you work on dinner, and I’ll make sure the house meets your standards.”

  “I appreciate that. I’ll go chat with your brother and sister real quick.” Ada rose, patting her daughter on the knee. “Thanks for talking me down from the edge.”

  “Meh,” Jane shrugged. “You’ve done it for me enough times. Figured I could return the favor.”

  Ada smiled again, shaking her head once more. That girl never failed to surprise and delight her.

  “Mr. Clark.”

  “Hello, Xander. How’s it going?”

  Damp heat stuck Kent’s collar to his neck, but judging by the rigid crossed-arm stance the teen had going on, any movement to remedy it could be a show of weakness. Instead, he rolled his shoulders and let them droop into a relaxed pose.

  He extended a hand. A second later, Xander’s palm firmly squeezed his.

  “Nice grip. Can I come in?”

  The request seemed to disarm Xander enough to let him pass. Kent fought a smile at the boy’s protective stance and waited until he’d shut the door to follow him into the kitchen.

  “Mom, your boyfriend is here.”

  He nearly missed the twitch of Xander’s lips. Kent breathed in relief. Teasing was good. It meant the peacock display at the door was mostly for show.

  It also meant Adaline had finally told her children they were dating. And that was very good.

  “Hi, Kent.” Ada’s head popped up from rinsing bell peppers at the sink just long enough to flash him a tight smile.

  Before he could interpret the look, the other two girls echoed a greeting from their places at the counter. Karalee shredded cheddar cheese while Jane sniffled through slicing onions into large chunks.

  “The fajitas won’t take long. The meat’s been marinating, and we just have to slice everything before tossing it in the skillet.” Ada pointed the tip of her knife toward the stovetop at the largest cast iron skillet he’d ever seen and quickly set to work slicing the rainbow of bell peppers. “I hope you like fajitas. I should have asked.”

  “I love them. Haven’t had them in years, though.” His stomach rumbled and his mouth watered at the smell of the peppers joining the onions in the hot pan. Fajitas were one of the meals his mom enjoyed making growing up, but now they were a splurge at restaurants on an educator’s salary.

  “My mom’s are the best, Mr. Clark.” He smiled to himself at Karalee’s sincerity.

  “I bet they are.”

  Within fifteen minutes, the sizzling skillet rested on a thick potholder in the middle of the table surrounded by assorted toppings. He looked questioningly to Ada, who motioned toward the end of the table. “You take the head.”

  The gravity of what that seat implied wasn’t lost on him. Weight settled like a mantle he’d been waiting eons to wear. Sucking in a steadying breath, he reached his hands out, palms up, and waited for everyone to clasp each other before bowing his head and praying over the meal.

  Could they tell this was the first time he’d borne such a responsibility in a setting like this? And when would he have the privilege of doing it again?

  Getting ahead of yourself again, man.

  The conversation was stifled as everyone filled their plates, but soon enough, they found common ground discussing the superhero multiverse and comparing movie versus comic book worlds. Then it moved to DC versus Marvel and even ventured into some of the smaller publishers and spin-off worlds.

  Eventually, the kids disappeared upstairs, leaving him to help Adaline clean up.

  “That went well.” Kent nudged Ada’s shoulder with his arm as she washed the dishes, and he rinsed.

  She handed him a plate. “It did.”

  He frowned. She’d seemed anxious before dinner, subdued during. Now it appeared the tension was back full force.

  “Everything all right?”

  Ada didn’t answer, scrubbing the plate in her hands meticulously before handing it to him with a shrug. He accepted the plate and rinsed it under the hot water, set it on the rack, and waited. When she didn’t look at him, he gently reached for her hands and ran them under the faucet. Once the soap bubbles were gone, he handed her a clean towel and turned off the sink.

  “C’mon, Ada. You can’t fool me.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and he wanted nothing more than to fold her into his arms. When she leaned into him, he went with his first instinct and pulled her close.

  “I feel so out of control. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Things have been better lately, but all day I’ve just been a mess.” She rambled on about church and babies and peace and brunch, then sniffled. “And then we came home to a flooded kitchen. Stupid dishwasher! I hate hand washing.”

  Kent had no idea why that would bring a woman to tears or inspire her to nearly scrub the pattern off her dishes, but if Ada were upset, he would do his best to help. Probably wouldn’t succeed, but he could try.

  What good was being a counselor if he couldn’t aid the woman he—nope, he wouldn’t even think that word.

  She relaxed against him, pulling her arms out from between their bodies and wrapping them around his middle. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and waited.

  With a sniff, she continued. “This is nice. I’m sorry. I don’t really know what came over me. It’s been like this all day. Frantic one minute and tears the next. I was so nervous about doing this, you know? I’ve never… I haven’t really… the kids…. Ugh! See? I can’t even talk. I don’t even know why I’m rambling like this. You don’t want to hear what a mess I am!”

  Kent waited, holding her and praying for the right words.

  “Well, now you’ve seen my irrationally emotional side. I won’t blame you if you decide to run screaming down the driveway.” She laughed, and warm droplets fell onto his shirt. She went on with a sigh. “When I’m freaking out inside, I kind of go a little crazy trying to make everything perfect.”

  No kidding.

  They stood silently for several heartbeats. “Relax. Everything went great.” He squeezed her tighter before letting the hug loosen.

  When her head lifted, he used his thumb to wipe away the moisture under her eyes. “You do know I like you as-is, right? You don’t have to be perfect to impress me. I liked you the first time I saw you with your hair in a messy ponytail and your baggy scrub-the-library clothes.”

  A doubtful chortle burst from her lips. He raised an eyebrow and waited until she looked at him.

  “I mean it, Ada. I like you. And your kids. We’re together. That’s enough. More than enough.”

  The kiss to his cheek in response was surprising and wet. When she dropped back to the floor from her toes, two fresh tears tracked down her face.

  “Thank you, Kent. You don’t know how I needed to hear that.”

  More than enough.

  If only Kent knew how much those words had been a balm to her heart this week.

  Lord, help me remember that in You, I am enough. I can do all things through Him who gives me strength. />
  Goodness knew she’d need every ounce of miraculous strength to get through the next two weeks. Between wrapping up the semester, Christmas, and juggling all the holiday chaos, she was already zapped of energy. Still, she had to find a bit more somehow, because this budget wasn’t going to balance itself. Too bad Christmas gifts didn’t buy themselves, either.

  Securely hidden in her closed office, she clicked through the spreadsheet one more time and checked the totals. Ugh. So much to buy, so little funds. She snuck a quick glance at the Christmas list tucked under the last page of her notepad and mentally tabulated how much was left. With a heavy sigh, she prioritized which gifts would least or most disappoint her kids by their absence under the tree.

  Too bad Jeff already had his own plans and only agreed to a few of the things the kids had asked for. He never did like buying from a list. Just purchasing the most-requested items would require either a financial miracle or help.

  Hot tears of fatigue stung her eyes. The clock showed she just had an hour left to close up and get the kids in the van to make it to midweek service on time.

  What she wouldn’t give for a little more time to get things done. A bit more money. More energy. There was just never enough, though.

  Never enough.

  No! That’s enough of that kind of thinking.

  If only she could get her mind to listen to itself and obey. Maybe if she…. A few more clicks and she was still exactly where she’d been ten minutes before. Minus a few degrees of hope.

  “Knock knock.”

  Ada’s head lifted off the desk where she’d resorted to banging it just a second ago. The corner of Kent’s mouth raised just on that one side along with that ridiculous but endearing eyebrow.

  “Rough day?”

  “You have no idea.” Her head fell back to the desk with a thump. “Ow.” She rubbed a tender spot on her forehead and frowned at Kent.

  “Yeah, probably not the smartest way to express your frustration.” His smirk would be infuriating if it didn’t make her heart flutter so much.

  “Did you need something?” Whoops. “That came out snippier than intended. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”

  “I decided to go to midweek service. Doesn’t make sense to drive all the way across town and back. Besides, I know me. I’d walk through the door and never resist the siren call of my pajamas.”

  Kent chuckled, a low rumble of amusement that sparked thoughts of how she enjoyed the vibration of his voice through his chest as he held her close. She could really use a good hug about now.

  “What has you headbanging without grunge music?”

  Ada looked up with a smile. “Ah, the good old days.” She shrugged and sighed. “Christmas.”

  “Christmas? Isn’t it the season of joy?”

  “It’s also the season of stress. And chaos. Praying for miracles so you don’t let the kids down—or anyone else.”

  Kent’s brows dipped. “Why would you be letting anyone down?”

  She held up the lengthy list she’d compiled for the past three months of all the things her kids had mentioned wanting for Christmas.

  He whistled. “Quite the list.”

  Something in his tone made her look up. “And?”

  “C’mon, Adaline. Just because they want all those things doesn’t mean you have to actually buy them.”

  “I know that. But—”

  “No buts. You can only do so much. Christmas isn’t about gifts, remember? It’s about The Gift. The only One that really matters. Focus on what’s important, and everything else will work out.”

  “Tell that to my nine-year-old who wants a cell phone, and barring that, an iPad.”

  “See? What nine-year-old needs either one? What else is on her list?”

  Kent helped her brainstorm affordable alternatives, but she still felt like a failure for not being able to get at least one of Karalee’s most wanted gifts. He flipped the screen on his phone so she could see it. The browser showed a list of tablets and full-color e-readers that could be used like a tablet with apps and games.

  “This one’s less than fifty bucks. Think she’d like it?”

  Ada scrolled through the listing description. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  “C’mon, Ada. Work with me here. What else is going on?”

  He had no idea what he was asking. Any minute now, she’d be unable to hold back, and all of the holiday crazy bogging down her mind would come spewing forth like a shaken soda bottle. “You really want to know?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Fine.” Using her fingers, she enumerated. “One, there’s not enough money to get even their favorites here. Two, Jeff likes to go off-list, which means we’ll have to stand in line to return a ton of stuff, or they’ll be stuck with things they don’t like and having to lie to their father.”

  She tapped a third finger. “We’ve got two days left until break starts. I have reports to run, late notes to send, grades to input, classes to teach, books to shelve,” Ada paused to suck in a deep breath. She wasn’t wearing control undergarments, so why was it so hard to breathe?

  “I don’t have time to go to church tonight, but the kids need it, and I know I need it. I feel guilty for not wanting to go, but anxious about going.” Why were her lips tingling?

  She lifted her other hand and pointed twice on each finger to emphasize how her stressors exceeded available fingers. “I wanted to bake a few things for the holidays because it doesn’t really feel like Christmas until I do. I forgot all about the ladies’ Christmas tea at church this weekend until Jane texted me a reminder. We’re in this new relationship—which is wonderful but still takes up brain space. Then there’s all the other stuff I’ll need to do before Christmas in six days. Wrap presents, shop for Christmas dinner, and oh!”

  She froze. “I promised the kids three months ago I would reserve our tickets to the midnight showing of that new superhero movie they’ve been waiting for all year!” No, no, no! The kids would never forgive her.

  “All right, Mount Vesuvius, breathe before you go full Pompei. Let me look.”

  She sent him a glare, to which he winked. Stupid sexy grin did its job, though. All the bubbling lava turned to soap bubbles and floated out as he scrolled through his phone.

  Ada took a deep breath and raked her top lip through her teeth several times, waiting for him to pronounce the verdict she already knew was coming.

  One rogue foot bounced a million miles an hour under the desk. What was taking so long?

  She knew immediately from the wavy lines across his forehead that his search hadn’t been fruitful.

  “I’m sorry, Ada. They sold out months ago. Even the other shows on Christmas Day are full.”

  She’d failed. Again. This was why she could never get past that annoying little voice constantly whispering she was never enough. Always taunting her to be better. She was never enough.

  Oh, how the truth hurt.

  Stinging tears burned her eyes and turned everything blurry. Unable to hold it all in any longer, she let her head fall to the desk and gave in to the waves of shame and inadequacy. Her body shook with sobs that wouldn’t be controlled. She had to get a grip, though. What would the kids think if she took them to church red-faced and splotchy?

  Ada forced back the tears and stilled, becoming aware of the warm hand between her shoulder blades. Kent’s gentle pressure calmed better than the release of tears had. After several minutes of deep breathing under the weight of Kent’s touch, she finally felt more like herself again.

  Her skin felt cold when Kent lifted his hand and walked away. Where had he gone? Water ran from the faucet for a few seconds, and then Kent came back holding out a damp towel.

  “Here. This should help with the redness.”

  Ada mumbled her thanks through a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I keep losing it around you. I’m usually so much better than this.”

  “Don’t worry about it, �
��kay? I’m used to dealing with feelings—hazard of the job, you know?”

  Her eyes flicked to his. Oh, how that crooked smile squeezed at her troubled heart. Was this man even real?

  “Except you shouldn’t have to be on duty with your girlfriend.”

  “Girlfriend, huh?” Kent winked.

  Winked!

  “Uh, I mean, uh—”

  “Relax, Ada, I’m teasing. I love that you used the G-word. Nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  She peeked out from behind the towel and flashed him a shaky smile. Kent took the rag from her fingers and shook it out before refolding and returning it. “There. Now it’s cold again.”

  “You’re pretty good at this.”

  He shrugged. “Sisters.”

  That’s right. She’d forgotten.

  “Feel better?”

  Ada nodded. “Yes, thank you. Again. And sorry, again.”

  “Quit apologizing.” Kent dropped into a squat, placing one hand on her knee. The touch sent a shiver through her. “The holidays are never easy. Would you mind if I came with you to service tonight?”

  “Um, sure?”

  He chuckled lightly. “Don’t sound so certain.”

  A sigh slipped out unbidden. “Yes, Kent. I’d love it if you came to church with me tonight.” Perhaps she went a bit thick on the sarcasm there. “But first, I suppose I should figure out where my kids are, huh?”

  Why had she avoided midweek service for so long?

  Ada looked around the congregation, soaking in the feeling that washed over her at so many believers worshipping in harmony.

  The worship leader sang a refrain about running to God and finding refuge. It should be automatic, shouldn’t it—running to God instead of from Him when life became too much? Hadn’t she learned years ago that life was better when He filled her empty places? When she trusted Him with her pain?

  How easy it was to forget. To let circumstances reign over her heart and mind. To believe the lie that she wasn’t enough to make a difference, to be loved.

  The praise and worship, followed by a brief message and now ministry time, left her wrung out like an old dishcloth. Ragged, worn, and holey. She ached for God to move in her, mend her tears and make her holy instead.