Learning to Trust

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Jonah started heading back to the table. She intercepted him before he could get messy again and scooped him up. “Let’s get you into jammies, little man.”

  “And I’ll clean this up.” Tug took the dishcloth over to the table. When she came back down a few minutes later, the table was set for four, and Tug, Nathan and Evangeline were gone.

  Disappointment hit her squarely.

  The house seemed emptier without them. She tried to hide her reaction, but she was pretty sure not much got past Tug’s mother.

  “Tug took food to go,” Darla explained when Christa came into the room. “He wanted to get the kids settled after supper, and it’s already getting late.”

  “I’m new with raising kids, but I know it’s important to keep schoolkids on some sort of schedule so they can be at their best each day.” She called Jeremy to the table while Jonah busied himself with pots and pans from the lowest cupboard. And when Darla handed the toddler a short wooden spoon, the boy became a full-on percussionist on the kitchen floor.

  They had pasta with fresh red sauce and a toddler’s musical accompaniment, and as they ate and talked, Christa’s concerns lessened.

  She’d thought being with Tug’s family would be horribly awkward.

  But their humor and commonsense natures made sure it wasn’t, and when the boys were finally tucked into bed, Christa sank onto the couch and locked eyes with Tug’s mother. “I have newfound respect for working moms, and single parents get an extra round of applause. This isn’t a game for amateurs,” she told Darla and Glenn. “First, hats off to your son for managing as well as he does, and second, please feel free to give me all the advice you can because I still have two hours of school prep work to do and I’m beat.”

  “Oh, I hear you.” Compassion laced Darla’s tone. “First advice. Make the best use of your in-school time to get prep work and grading done. Most teachers I know stay at school to get things done so when they come home, they don’t have work hanging over their heads.”

  “I will take that advice,” Christa told her. “I knew we had to meet with Jubilee today, and I felt guilty about staying later.”

  “No guilt allowed.” Glenn was tucking tiny puzzle pieces into a thousand-piece puzzle on an old oak table. “That’s the plus side of being here. The kids are in good hands. The rest works out.”

  “And about that.” Christa sat up and leaned forward. “I know you two are generous to a fault, but I need to pay you for childcare. Or rent. Something. I can’t just sponge off your hospitality. That goes against everything I’ve worked for.”

  Darla sat forward, too. “Except you didn’t come to Golden Grove expecting to become an instant mother of two.”

  “True, but—”

  “And even if you’ve been estranged from your aunt all this time, it’s hard to face the loss of a loved one,” Darla pressed on. “What you’re facing was totally unexpected. You didn’t imagine that your aunt would be gone, or that she’d left orphaned children. Facing that loss isn’t easy, Christa, even with the span of years that separated you two. It’s good to give yourself a little time to adjust. Fortunately, Glenn and I are retired, so maybe it’s worked out for the best. Give yourself time to grieve the childhood friend who shared everything with you while you get to know the boys.”

  “It’s hard for me to process all that,” Christa admitted. “The kind and sharing child Marta was versus the mother who chose drugs over two precious babies.”

  “That’s when we trust God to sort the details.” Darla’s advice was given with grave sincerity. “Whatever demons Marta faced, they must have been fierce to have her do such an about-face. We don’t know the circumstances. We don’t judge. We simply grab hold of what’s good and right—”

  “Those two boys.”

  “Yes. And we do our very best for them. I expect you probably have plenty of expenses on your plate right now.”

  Christa couldn’t deny it. “I figured the first year would be tight while I reestablished myself in a new area.”

  “If you can humble yourself to accept our help, that would be the best gift you can give us in return,” Darla assured her. “Glenn and I were just talking about how odd it seems not to have little ones in the house now that Nathan is off to school, so having you and the boys here is perfect.”

  Christa wasn’t sure how perfect it was, but the genuineness of their offer rang true. “Thank you. I’ve never had money per se, and this is my first full-time teaching job in a public school, so the salary that seemed marvelous for a single woman in a studio apartment isn’t quite the same for my new role and a bigger place. You guys have blessed me, and if there’s anything I can do to help you, I will gladly do it.”

  “You’re doing that just by being here. And letting us help with the boys,” Glenn told her. Then he aimed a mock fierce look in her direction. “As long as they stay away from my puzzle.”

  She laughed. “Then we better tie up the chairs, because they’re both climbers. I’m going up.” She stood, stretched and yawned. “If I start my prep right now, I should be done by ten. I’ll see you guys in the morning. And thank you again.”

  Glenn shot her a thumbs-up from his puzzle.

  Darla waved her thanks off. “Our pleasure. Go. Get some well-deserved rest.”

  She went upstairs. Peeked in at the boys. Jeremy was all arms and legs, his body splayed across the sheets.

  Jonah was curled up on the inside, cocooned in a cozy little throw.

  But the image that played with her brain wasn’t a visual of sleeping boys. It was of Tug, cradling Jeremy like you would a much younger child, letting the boy feel safe and sound in Copper Guy’s arms. Then playing with him. Tipping him upside down.

  The smile on Tug’s face...

  Her brain understood why she couldn’t be attracted to the kindhearted, funny deputy. Her heart wasn’t getting it, which meant she needed to put her emotions on lockdown. His no-romance declaration should have made the whole thing easier. It would have if she hadn’t seen his declaration as a challenge. A challenge she couldn’t accept, of course.

  But one she’d love to win. And that right there was a conundrum.

  Chapter Seven

  Tug Moyer never took the coward’s way out, but that was precisely what he did the night before.

  “Dad, are you recording our TV interview so we can see it tonight?” Vangie asked, bounding into the O’Laughlin kitchen with her normal high-gear enthusiasm early the next morning. “I wish it was on before we go to school.”

  “They’re emailing me the link, so we’ll be able to watch it whenever.”

  “Sweet!” She poured herself some cereal, got out a bowl for Nathan and poured his, too. “Can you get waffles this week? The blueberry kind? And the real syrup, even though it’s expensive? And can we go play with the boys again tonight? I like helping with them, and Grandma says I’m a natural babysitter.”

  Two questions were easily answered. The third? Not so much because the more time he spent with Vangie’s new teacher, the more he wanted to spend time with her. “Yes, yes, and probably not because I have things to do. We’re going back to our house tonight as long as the furor’s died down. We need to get our lives back to normal, Vangie.”

  She set the cereal box down and stared at him. “But normal is going to Grandma and Grandpa’s after school every day.” She looked from him to Nathan as her brother yawned his way into the kitchen. “Do you mean we won’t be going to their house in the afternoons because you’re working at school now? Because I like going over there. So does Nathan,” she insisted. “It’s our thing.”

  “You’re eight, Evangeline. You’re not old enough to have a thing.”

  “Dad...”

  “Coffee.” He lifted his mug. “If you press me before cup number two, you know what the answer will be.”

  She frowned, but took his
advice for once. Pressing her point so early in the day did neither of them any good, but with a new normal looming, she made a good point.

  Would he be driving them home daily?

  No. There would be days when he needed to get things done at the station house or at his school office, and the campaign was in full swing, so he couldn’t be lying low when it came to his parents’ place, just because Christa was there.

  She drew him. And not just Christa, but the boys, too. What kind of man wouldn’t be taken with those two innocent little guys?

  But it wasn’t the boys that set his heart racing.

  It was their beautiful caregiver.

  Did she know how pretty she was? How that teasing smile played havoc with his emotions? Made his palms go damp?

  Even now he was counting the hours until he’d see her again.

  He’d used the kids’ schedules as an excuse last night, but he hadn’t slipped away because of them. It was him. Laughing with Christa. Sponging off the messy toddler. Wiping her cheeks, which had put him directly in mind of a follow-up kiss.

  And that thought barreled him right back around to why he avoided romance completely.

  Losing Hadley.

  He’d brushed off her symptoms.

  So did she, which she mentioned time after time to you way back then. Just so you wouldn’t beat yourself up, and yet—here you are.

  He knew that, but he had shrugged off the various little signs that might have nailed her diagnosis more quickly. A more protective husband would have insisted she go to the doctor. Taken her there himself. When they realized later that those indiscriminate indications were all signs of the ovarian cancer that eventually killed her, he blamed himself.

  In truth, he’d hated himself.

  She’d trusted him. She’d trusted medicine. And when the first doctor prescribed some gut-calming meds, they assumed it was no big deal.

  Until it was a life-taking deal, and all he could see was how casually he’d treated her health. And then she was simply gone.

  “How can I wait until after your coffee if you’re not drinking your coffee, Dad?” Vangie’s cereal was gone. Nathan’s was half-gone. And he hadn’t taken a sip from his mug, not even once. He swallowed a sigh.

  “You can go to Grandma’s on the school bus like always. You’re right. I’ve got work to do, and things have calmed down enough for you to go straight over there.”

  “Did you have to donate all the cookies?” Nathan wasn’t a morning person like his sister, but the fate of the baked goods had obviously been preying on his mind. “Even my favorites?”

  “Chocolate-covered peanut butter?”

  Nathan’s lower lip pushed out. “That is my most favorite ever. And they’re all gone.”

  “Grandma said she’d make some today.”

  His face brightened. “I love hers the most.”

  “I know, buddy.” He slugged down his coffee and pointed to his watch. “Ten minutes until we’re out the door. Brush your teeth and find anything you need. I’ll gather the rest of our stuff from here and bring it home this evening.”

  “I’ll love being at my own house.” For once Vangie’s tone wasn’t overly dramatic. “But it would be fun to live in this house during apple weekends. I saw CeeCee in school and she says it’s so busy because people are coming and going all the time.”

  “Busy’s good. But twelve hours of traffic and people pulling in and out can’t be a lot of fun for kids. Not if you can’t just go outside and play.”

  The common sense of his words changed her viewpoint. “I didn’t think of that. Can you get ice cream for tonight, too? The kind with apple pie in it?”

  Typical Evangeline instant-change-of-subject.

  Some days he puzzled about Evangeline’s mind. The child went through life constantly engaged, as if her brain was “on” 24/7. They used to joke that she rarely slept, and when she did, her mind was still racing because she’d wake up having mentally solved whatever problems had faced her the previous day.

  Nathan’s easygoing nature had almost been a relief because being Evangeline’s parent overworked his brain cells. “Or we have apple pie and put vanilla ice cream from the IGA on top.”

  “It’s all about ratio, Dad.”

  Hadley’s words, coming out of their not-quite-nine-year-old daughter. Her science-loving mind mentioned ratios on a regular basis. Funny, he hadn’t thought of that in a while, but Evangeline was quite serious.

  “If the pie to ice cream ratio is off, it’s not as good. Too much crust spoils the whole thing, but it has to have some crust, or it’s not apple-pie ice cream. It’s ice cream with apple-pie filling.”

  “As always, life is all about the details.” He grabbed his lightweight jacket from the kitchen hook. “I’m bringing the car around to this side. Meet me in one minute.”

  Nathan hurried off to grab his things. He rarely kept Tug waiting. Evangeline chronically kept him waiting. So different.

  * * *

  It was nice to arrive at school and not be bombarded with reporters.

  That lasted exactly one hour, unfortunately.

  He was addressing a government-in-action class when Mrs. Menendez called him over from the high school at 9:20 a.m. “We’ve got a film crew here. They were trying to get a private interview with Vangie about her video. Ms. Alero intervened and I’ve got the crew here in the office. They are quite unhappy.”

  Protests of freedom of the press and free speech came through as he ran to his SUV cruiser. “Be there in two.”

  He looped the car around to the front entrance of the elementary school, but stopped to check on Vangie first. He knocked softly on Christa’s classroom door.

  She spotted him through the glass. Their eyes met.

  Concern deepened her gaze. Concern, and maybe something else? Which of course set his pulse racing all over again.

  He lifted an eyebrow in Evangeline’s direction. Christa motioned Vangie to join them. Then she crossed the room and eased open the door. She half shut the door behind her once Vangie came through. “They were going outside for gym class,” she told him softly. “I was walking back here for my planning period and I heard voices. Different voices. It sounded out of place, so I went back down the access hall and there they were. Vangie couldn’t get to the door to join her class because one of them was in front of it.”

  So the crew had effectively blocked an eight-year-old from getting help.

  “I didn’t know what to say, Dad,” Vangie explained. “They were asking me questions about why I wanted you to go out on dates, but not like Mrs. Brewster did when she came to the house. It was like these guys were trying to be funny, only they weren’t funny. I hope I didn’t say anything bad.”

  She was worried about him. About his image. The campaign. He crouched down and drew her into his arms. “Hey, no worries, okay? I’m on pretty solid ground, but I don’t like that they didn’t politely ask to talk to you. They cornered you. And how did they get into the school in the first place?” That was the real question. “Miss Ivy would never have just let them through.”

  “I don’t know.” Christa looked angry. She reached out an arm and looped it around Vangie’s shoulders. “I’m going to walk her out to her class while you handle things in here. Sound good?” She posed the question to Vangie.

  Vangie answered in a relieved voice. “Yes. Thank you, Ms. Alero.”

  “You are most certainly welcome, Miss Moyer.” Christa kept her voice jovial, but the look she sent over Vangie’s head—an expression of dismay—conveyed a different message. As she and Vangie walked toward the soccer field beyond the gym, he strode down the main hall to confront the reporters who thought it was okay to sneak into a school and demand answers from a kid. Because it wasn’t all right, and it didn’t matter if it was his kid or someone else’s—it would never be all right. And
he was about to make sure they knew that. Firsthand.

  * * *

  “So, Christa, is there anything else I should know before the department runs its normal background checks?” Jubilee tipped her glasses back up on her nose once she finished tapping something into her electronic notebook two days later. “Anything you’d like to share?”

  Like to share?

  No.

  But if Christa was going to become a caregiver for two impressionable boys, she wanted it to be from a position of honesty. She folded her hands and nodded. “I was arrested and charged with a juvenile crime at age fifteen. I got involved with a guy who was big into a gang and that meant I had to be part of it, too. I didn’t want to lose him, so I went along with it, but it put me in the middle of an extortion ring they were running on local businesses. If the businesses didn’t pay for protection—” she made quote marks with her two hands “—they suffered whatever consequences the gang chiefs decided. And it could be a wide range of horrible things, I’m afraid.”

  “What city was this?”

  “Sinclair, California.”

  “Are the records sealed?”

  “Yes. But I don’t know how effective that really is. And while I wasn’t physically involved with the actions they took, I was there. And that was shameful enough because I did nothing to stop them from hurting an old man. If I could go back and change things, I would. But life doesn’t offer that option.”

  Jubilee had stopped typing as Christa spoke. Darla had taken the boys and Tug’s kids to the playground to give Christa some privacy with Jubilee. Jubilee sat back slightly. “I’m sorry you went through that. But real glad you came out the other side and changed your life completely, Christa. That’s a rare and wonderful thing.”