And the Greatest of These Is Love: A Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (28 page)

“Irvin?” she said, puzzled when she opened the door and saw him standing there.

“Hi, Miss T,” he said happily as though this visit was not out of the ordinary. “I got to thinking last night, and I was wondering if maybe we could test Mr. C’s idea.”

Worry dropped on her. “Idea? What idea?”

“Well, when he was talking to the guys who were here the other day, he said they might start a program where the older kids get to help out with the little kids,” Irvin said.

Gabi shook her head. “Yeah?”

“Well, I just thought maybe I could come help you with the kids here — when I get out of school in the afternoons.”

Suddenly she understood all he wasn’t saying. “Oh, Irvin, you don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“Wouldn’t you rather play basketball?”

“I think this is more important than basketball,” he said, watching her reaction closely. “And I think Mr. C would agree with me, don’t you? What do you say?”

“Well,” she said, wishing anything made any sense, “I say…  I hope you’re good with clay.”

Irvin smiled a 1000-watt smile and ducked past her into the room.

“Children,” she said softly and then repeated the word louder as her resolve came back to her, “Children. This is Irvin Thompson, and he’s going to come in here to help in the afternoons.”

In one heartbeat Irvin was in the middle of a myriad of clay sculptures — helping, advising, and praising each and every child in the room. And for the first time in three days, Gabi had the distinct feeling that everything was going to be all right after all.

The wind whirled past them in short bursts of energy, and Gabi wrapped her coat around herself tighter and wondered again about the wisdom of coming. She had hoped Andrew would be out in time to keep his promise to Antonio so that they could attend Greg’s last game together, but at the moment, Andrew was locked in a battle of wills with the entire United States government.

So, despite her better judgment, she was sitting out here freezing to death in the park, and trying desperately to think of something remotely normal to talk with Bryan about.

“Greg’s really good,” she said through her chattering teeth.

“Yeah, he is,” Bryan agreed, leaning forward on the bench, “and I think this one’s going to be pretty good, too.” He reached down and ruffled Antonio’s hair, but Antonio was paying attention to nothing other than the game going on in front of him.

Bryan smiled down at the little figure on the grass between them. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah,” Gabi agreed half-heartedly because her heart hurt so much over all of it, that’s all there was left. Antonio had to be something special, she thought miserably, more often than not these days it was only his smile and his spirit that kept her going.

“It’s a good thing this is the last game of the season. It’s really cold out here,” Bryan said as he looked around the near empty park obviously reaching for something normal to talk about as well.

“No kidding.” Gabi clutched at her coat again as the wind whipped its way around her legs.

“So, how’s the center?”

Torture was the first word that came to mind, but she decided against being that honest.

“The kids are excited about the Christmas play,” she said, ducking the real question. “I think it’s going to be pretty good this year.”

“That’s good,” Bryan said, obviously wanting to dig deeper but not wanting to overstep his bounds. He leaned back again and left her to her thoughts, and they watched the remainder of the game in mutual silence.

The second the final whistle blew, Antonio jumped to his feet and raced to Greg’s side.

Together, Gabi and Bryan stood and made their way after the boys.

He walked slowly, one hand in the pocket of his pants. His glance was careful and quick. “You going to see Andrew today?”

“I don’t know,” Gabi said, slowly pushing her feet across the yellow grass in front of her. “I hate to keep dragging Antonio down there.”

Bryan nodded his understanding.

“This can’t be easy on him,” Bryan said, watching the two boys kick the soccer ball back and forth across the yellow grass.

“No, it’s not,” Gabi sighed, “but sometimes I think he’s taking it better than the rest of us.”

“Well, he has you. I’m sure that helps.”

“Oh, yeah,” Gabi said sarcastically.

“What?” Bryan asked, instantly puzzled. “Why did you say it like that?”

“My mothering skills are nothing to jump up and cheer about.”

“Are you kidding me? You work magic with the kids at the center.”

“That’s different,” Gabi said, watching the two little boys laughing happily. She couldn’t remember ever being that happy.

“I think you’re wrong,” Bryan said, and the sincerity in his voice stopped all the protests running through her head. “I think Antonio’s very lucky to have you to take care of him — especially now.”

Especially now. Now, with the new father whom he had barely had a chance to get comfortable with taken away from him and stuck in some old, rotten jail cell for sticking to his principles, she thought bitterly as the misery threatened to take over again.

“It’s not fair,” she said almost to herself. “Andrew doesn’t deserve this.”

“I agree with you,” Bryan said, watching her out of the corner of his eye, “but Andrew’s always been a man of his word, and right or wrong, if he says he’s going to do something, he does it.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She’d seen it for herself too many times, and as she realized how permanent this situation could become, the weight of it descended on her again.

“You gonna be okay?” Bryan asked, his concern for her evident.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding as the fatigue threatened to take her right down with it.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t I take the boys over to our house for the rest of the afternoon? That way you can have a break.”

“Oh. You don’t have to do that,” she said, forcing herself to sound strong.

“It’s okay, Gabi, Antonio’s family. Besides I think it would be good for the cousins to get to know each other.”

“I don’t know,” she said, feeling like she was somehow shirking her responsibility.

“You can come get him whenever you want,” Bryan said. “I know Greg would love to have him.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, Gabi. Please,” he said gently, and when she looked up at him, Andrew’s eyes looked back at her, and instantly a plan formulated itself in her head.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

So less than an hour later Gabi found herself parking in front of the courthouse in a car that suddenly felt incredibly empty without one special passenger. It was strange how quickly it had become normal to have him with her at every step during her day.

She pushed that thought from her mind as she hurried up the steps and into the warmth of the building. Antonio was a precious, wonderful little boy, and one thing was for sure, he needed Andrew. As she approached the desk, her resolve to do everything she could to make that reunion happen soon solidified.

He was only mildly surprised when the guard called his name. She had somehow managed to show up every day thus far, but he was certain that sooner or later the new would wear off, and she would leave. Besides the only reason she kept coming was Antonio. Why had he asked her to take him again?

Andrew couldn’t clearly remember anymore. In this place where memories and dreams were all he had to hold onto, it was easy to begin losing track of which was which, but one thing was for sure — he knew where he stood in Gabi’s book.

His feet carried him into the little room, and in spite of every warning in his head, his breath caught in his chest the second he saw her. Worse, the pain in his heart was almost physically unbearable when he forced his eyes back onto the floor and his head away from the possibility that her coming to see him was a good sign.

“Hi,” she said softly immediately noticing the slump of his shoulders and the downcast of his eyes. The thought that he didn’t look like the Andrew she knew hit her again.

He mumbled something incoherent as he sat down heavily in the chair after being relieved of the handcuffs by the guard who was never very far away.

Andrew couldn’t look at her; he was having enough trouble thinking straight as it was, and looking at her now might send him over the edge.

“I think we need to talk,” Gabi said with a solidity he hadn’t expected. She’d always sounded so frightened before. Had she made a decision about Antonio? Was she going to bail on them and not even give him a chance to plead his case?

“Oh?” he said off-handedly as though there no reason he could think of as to why they would need to talk.

She watched him staring at the table in front of him, and suddenly her resolve solidified even more than it had been over the last hour. He needed her now—not for pity, but for strength.

“Look, Andrew, I understand why you’re doing this, but I think you’re being selfish.”

Bull’s eye. Instantly he looked up at her, and anger flashed through his eyes. “You think I’m doing this to be selfish?”

“No, but I think you sitting in here feeling sorry for yourself is pretty selfish,” she challenged, holding her ground even as the heat in his eyes seared into her soul.

“You’ve got some nerve.” He jumped to his feet and paced over to the wall as far away from her as he could get. That got the guard’s attention, but she checked his movement with one look.

“I’ve got nerve?” she asked Andrew in utter disbelief. “As I recall I’m not the one who neglected to tell someone about a certain situation until you dumped a little boy on my doorstep.”

Slowly he deflated as she watched him from the table.

“I didn’t know it was going to be this bad,” he said quietly as he shook his head and leaned a hand against the wall.

“Well, it is,” she said, wishing with all her heart that she could just put her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right, but right now that wasn’t what he needed. “So, what’re you going to do about it?”

He turned to face her, the anger back in his eyes. “You make it sound like I wanted this to happen.”

“No, I make it sound like what it is. You stood up for something you believed in, and everyone out there admires you for that. But in here, you look like you’re on death row or something,” she said, and instantly he ducked his head. “Look, I’ll be honest, it’s awful hard for me to believe you’re gonna get out of here when every time I come to see you, you look like you’re headed to your own funeral.”

“This isn’t exactly a picnic, you know?” he said, looking around at his surroundings.

“Well, no kidding. Did you think it was gonna be?”

“No,” he said quietly, and his eyes found the floor in front of him again.

In spite of herself her heart went out to him. This couldn’t be easy, but who said life was supposed to be easy? Her determination returned.

“Well, I think you did,” she said as if in a bold challenge. “I think you thought Bryan would get you out, or Carson would let you go, or the suits would just give up. But that’s not gonna happen, and I think you’ve got to face that.”

Anger turned to fury. “So, what do you want me to do — give in?”

Holding his gaze, she shook her head. “Even if I wanted you to do that, you wouldn’t.” Then she had to stifle the smile that threatened.

The anger in his face melted instantly. “You got that right,” he said, looking at her as the corners of his mouth turned upward. But just as quickly, he looked back down again, and the defeat in his voice returned. “Then what is it you want, Gabi? If giving up isn’t an option, what’s left?”

“Life.”

“Life, ha.” Sarcasm dripped from the laugh. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“That’s probably true,” she said, nodding slowly, “but as I see it, you’ve got two choices:  you can spend your time in here feeling sorry for yourself, or you can find a way to keep living.”

The sarcasm didn’t leave. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Well, you can start by finding something to do besides sitting in your cell all day looking at the bars.”

“Oh, yeah? Where else am I supposed to look?”

“Past the bars.”

“Huh?”

She stood, her gaze at him never wavering. “Look, when you first came to the center, what did you see?”

“I’m not following you.”

“Close your eyes,” she instructed, and immediately repeated the instruction when she saw the look of protest cross his face. “I said, close your eyes. Now when you first walked into the center — the building itself, what’d you see?”

“In the lobby?”

“Okay, yeah, how did the lobby look?”

“Old? Dirty? Dark?” he asked, the memory of that first day flooding back over him.

“And when you think about it now, how does it look?”

“Well,” he said, thinking back to the last time he’d walked through those doors, “it still looks kind of dirty, but it’s brighter now.”

“Why?”

“For one thing the windows are clean,” he said, laughing at his own joke.

“Why else?” she prodded.

“Because... I don’t just see what’s actually there anymore, I see what
could
be there. I see the possibilities,” he said slowly, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

“You don’t see the bars,” she said softly, and instantly he opened his eyes and looked at her. “The bars around the building were holding us all captive. We saw the bars — the dirt, the poverty, the hopelessness. We saw the bars. You didn’t.

“I’ve watched you for three weeks now, and over and over, the one thing that’s come through loud and clear is that Andrew Clark doesn’t just see the problem, he’s a man who looks for and finds the solutions.”

Truly Andrew wished he could believe her. He looked around at the concrete holding him in. “But this time is...”

“It’s no different — unless you let it be.”

He sighed, and his eyes found the floor again. In his heart he knew she was right, but here? How could he see the solutions here? Here the bars really did hold him in. It wasn’t just a perception. It was reality.

“Just because you decided to take a vacation doesn’t mean the rest of us stopped needing you,” she said, her voice soft, like a nice place to fall. “Irvin practically runs to my room every day for the latest news, and Antonio needs his daddy.”