Chapter Three
“It’s been the biggest blessing of our lives,” Haley Goodwin said, lowering her eyes to her seven-year-old daughter. “It couldn’t have come at a better time. We truly needed this.”
I put the pen to paper and scribbled her quote. Even with the digital recorder rolling between us, I wanted to ensure that each of her words were captured and recorded on the page. I’d watched her for ten minutes, listening and writing as she talked with me, and I gave each one of her words the time and attention they deserved.
Tonight I wouldn’t be distracted. Tonight I was going to forget about everything happening at home. This was about friendship, about helping people, about accomplishing something. And for now, my focus belonged only to Haley and Amanda Goodwin.
I only wished I would’ve taken the chance to give them that special time and attention when we’d first met at the clothing drive a few weeks ago, back when I was still heavily involved with the program and helped little Amanda find some warm clothing for the winter. Since, I’d learned very little about the woman sitting in front of me—only that her name was Haley, and like I’d always suspected, she was a single mother without many options for getting by. But Haley had been good to me, letting me get a small glimpse of their lives and how things had changed since the RI program started in Sugar Creek.
“Everything that you, your friends, and the Raddick Initiative have done for us … we’ll be forever grateful, Mandy. I can’t thank you enough.”
That’s what I loved about RI; it was creating opportunities and new beginnings for people who needed and deserved them the most—people like Haley and Amanda. It worked beautifully for everyone inside and outside of the program. The rewards were mutually beneficial, whether you played a part in making the change or the change somehow impacted your life. I knew, because I felt like I’d been on both ends of what RI had to offer.
Sadly, it had taken me far too long to see the true meaning of what we were doing. And I used the word
we
very loosely… since I wasn’t part of the group anymore.
I was no longer competing for the district or the scholarship. Two days ago, I’d thrown in the towel, called it quits. Somewhere between being called out on my selfishness by one too many people and my own self-awareness, I knew it was the best possible solution for the Sugar Creek district. I had to leave the team. It was the only way they would ever stand a chance at winning, especially after all the scandal I’d caused with—
“
Gabe
!” The loud squeal of seven-year-old Amanda elicited the stares of almost every patron in the church. Little by little, they lost interest and turned back to their respective conversations and meals. Amanda, though, sprang from her seat and ran at him.
The Thursday night soup kitchen, as always, was bringing in dozens of families from all over Sugar Creek. Driving out to the church this evening created a great opportunity for me to not only walk away from my crazy family for a night but to walk among the crowd and talk to some of the locals, obtaining quotes from the townspeople about the impact of the program on their lives.
I’d quit the team, yes, but there was no keeping me away from it. Inherently, I knew it was exactly where I’d always belonged. My friend Georgia knew, too, and that’s why, as editor of our high school paper, she’d assigned me to the cover the remainder of the RI program for the
Herald
. So there I was—right back where I wanted to be, but in a much better position. I was hard at work, covering the action, but never lifting a finger to help. I had my place, and officially unattached from RI, I could stay close by without raising any suspicion.
“Hey there.” Gabe’s voice was breathless as young Amanda slammed into his midsection and wrapped her scrawny arms around his body. He whisked her off her feet, swung her around in a circle, and only stopped long enough to smother her inside a giant hug. He set her on the ground, both of them smiling.
“I haven’t seen you since you came to my house!” Amanda squealed, her eyes widening as she watched his expression soften further. “Did you read the note I gave you? Huh?
Did you
?”
“I did,” he kneeled down to her level, this time tapping her nose with the pad of his index finger. “It was very sweet of you to take the time to write that.”
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks glowing a bright shade of pink.
“And I hope you don’t mind, but I shared your letter with Mandy here, too.”
I looked over my shoulder, trying to pretend it was the first time I’d looked in his direction. Gabe didn’t need to know that I hadn’t taken my eyes off him since the moment he approached the table. He didn’t need to know that I’d already scanned every inch of him with adoring eyes, admiring how well he pulled off nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans. And he most definitely didn’t need to know that every moment he’d shared with little Amanda had only made me respect him more.
I caught a glimpse of Gabe’s smile before my eyes darted to the little girl in front of him.
“You read my note, too?” she asked, turning to me.
“I did,” I recalled the sweet words she’d written to thank Gabe for all the wonderful things he’d done for her and her mother…and all of the kind things she’d even said about me. “It was a beautiful letter.”
“After everything you’ve given us,” Haley said, speaking for the first time since Gabe walked in the room and her daughter’s squeal interrupted the interview, “no amount of thanks will ever be enough.”
Gabe’s eyes met the mother’s.
“We’re glad to help however we can,” he said, tousling Amanda’s pin-straight hair before standing tall once again. “I was only stopping to say hi. I’ll leave you to your dinner.”
The little girl fought to smooth her untidy hair at once, but the wide smile and dimples on her cheeks gave away her clear admiration for his playfulness. With a wink, he started to walk away when I turned fully in my seat and stared in his direction.
“Excuse me, Gabe?”
He stopped and pivoted back. “Yeah?”
I loved the way he looked at me just then—
yeah
?—a lifted brow and curious stare, all shaded beneath that faded ball cap he favored so much. It amazed me how something as small as a simple look could leave me so breathless, and yet there I sat, unable to form even the smallest sentence … which wasn’t good, because
I
was the one who’d stopped him from leaving.
“Mandy?”
“
Huh?”
“You need something?” His eyes widened as he looked around the busy dining hall, and I took the opportunity to shake myself free of whatever Gabe-induced trance I was in.
“Right, yes. You came over here just now—”
“To say hi.”
“But you never did,” I said quickly. “You didn’t say hello.”
There was a pause, a quiet moment when it seemed as if all the bustling around us had quieted to complete silence. Even little Amanda said nothing to that, and she hadn’t been at a shortage for words all night. She, like her mother and I, stared at him—his blue eyes burning on my face. The moments grew longer, quieter, and before too long, a small grin pulled at the edge of his lips.
“Hello, Mandy,” he finally said, and then his smile broke—full-fledged, ear-to-ear, and goofy as all get out.
“Hi, Gabe.” I tried to play it cool, not to let him know that his smile had gotten the best of me. But Gabe
always
got the best of me, and he would’ve been a fool not to know that by now.
He let go of a breath, and his chest fell with relief as he realized he was off the hook with a simple hello. I’d caught him off guard, put him on the spot. I kinda liked that.
He turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen. I sat staring at the door where he’d vanished, lost in a moment, hoping he’d come back out to shine that perfect smile or show his beautiful face once again. Even if we didn’t get past awkward hellos, it would’ve been worth it, just to stand there staring at him. But the seconds ticked by and he never returned.
A tiny throat cleared, and I snapped my head in Amanda’s direction.
“
Hmm
?”
“He’s your Prince Charming, isn’t he?” she asked, climbing into the chair next to mine. She twined her arm through mine and dropped her head on my shoulder, letting go of a small, dreamy sigh. “You know, like in the books and movies, when a princess falls in love and lives happily ever after with the handsome prince? That’s you and Gabe, right? He’s your prince?”
“
Amanda
,
” her mother scolded. “That’s none of your business.”
“It’s okay.” I rested my head on top of the little girl’s, happy I couldn’t see the hopeful glint in her eyes.
“Well, isn’t he?” she asked again. “Is Gabe your happily ever after?”
There was a clear reason I didn’t answer her right away. I didn’t know
how
to answer her. I couldn’t very well destroy the childhood illusion of love, romance, and happy endings, nor could I honestly say that I believed in the notion of Prince Charming.
If there was one thing I’d come to learn in recent weeks, it was that nothing was ever as perfect as the movies or books led us to believe—not our friends,
certainly
not our families, not the men we fall in love with … and, most importantly, ourselves.
Yes. Gabe was the guy who’d weaseled his way into my heart with no apparent intention to leave. He was everything I could imagine holding on to forever, and yes … he was becoming a dream come true. But life and the relationships I’d witness blossom and just as quickly fall apart, they’d all taught me that even those good relationships, shared by the greatest people, have their hard times, their big secrets, and their major insecurities. I had them. Gabe had them. And those weren’t the kinds of things that those fictional happily ever afters were built on.
Happily ever afters were built on perfection, and perfection didn’t exist. There was no such thing as a real Prince Charming, a perfect life, or a seamless ending. It didn’t work that way.
But what I knew for certain was that there
was
Gabe, someone with history and intensity that I admired—someone who made me feel things I never dreamed I could feel, someone who’d sparked my passion for friendship, and who had an incredible knack for fueling my emotions—the good, bad, and the ugly. And how could I ignore a spark that made even the smallest things in life feel so intense?
It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like a great recipe for happiness. It felt
right
, and that was something I couldn’t walk away from. It was something I could never deny.
“You know what?” I said, and she perked up, eager to hear my answer. “I’m not sure Gabe is a Prince Charming, but if he were, I’d be happy to be his princess.”
That elicited a smile from both Amanda and her mother.
I thanked the both of them for allowing me to impose on their dinnertime, and I even extended an offer to Haley to help out from time to time—to take Amanda off her hands for a few hours here and there if she ever needed a night to herself. I didn’t want to lose contact with them after the program came to an end, and offering to babysit every now and then was the least I could do.
We exchanged numbers, and I collected my things and said my goodbyes for the evening. As much as I dreaded the return home to my father and sister, I couldn’t overstay my welcome. I left the Goodwins to their meals as I headed for the front doors of the church.
“Leaving so soon?”
I stopped the moment my foot hit the first concrete step. The dining hall door shut slowly behind me, drowning out the noise inside the building. I jerked my head to find Gabe as he turned the corner of the building, having left through the kitchen door around back. He didn’t come any closer, only stopped where he was and maintained those fifteen feet of distance.
“Yeah, I think it’s time to head out.” I readjusted the bag on my shoulder. “I’ve bothered enough people for one night. Georgia will be happy with the interviews.” I tilted my head and stared at him, noticing that he’d stopped looking at me and riveted his stare to the dark, night sky. He kept his gaze fixed there, looking as though he hadn’t heard a word I’d said to him. “Gabe?”
“Hmm?”
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Thinking.”
“About?”
“Did you read my note?” he asked quickly, turning to look at me.
His quick, shallow breaths left his mouth with a rasp, and though his eyes were now fixed on me, I could sense his eagerness to look anywhere else. He was running on nerves, much like I was back in the dining hall. It was in his voice, the way his hands fidgeted at his sides. It wasn’t the cool, collected Gabriel Raddick I was so used to being around. Something had changed in a matter of minutes, and this version of him was much more reserved, a little more tuned into the fact that we were completely alone—that there was nothing standing between us. It was a Gabriel Raddick that suddenly realized the ball was no longer in his court, and he was now waiting impatiently to learn whether or not I’d read the endearing note he’d scribbled onto a card and handed me yesterday.
“Your note?”
“The note I gave you,” he said. “Have you read it?”
I shook my head, playing dumb at his expense. It was cute, the way he let his nerves get the best of him. For once, it was nice not to be the one blubbering.
“Oh,
right
,
” I said, nodding. “Yeah, no. I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Oh,” he scratched the back of his head. His eyes shifted to the ground, and he kicked the pebbles at his feet. “Well, if you get time—”
“Gabe?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m kidding,” I said, and he peeked up at me before lifting his head again completely. “Of course I read your note. And … ”
I thought about Dad, the way he adamantly refused to give me permission to go on the date. He wasn’t about to change his mind, not after the way he’d yelled at me earlier. But I felt like the biggest problem Gabe and I had was our horrible timing. The timing had never been right. I knew he cared for me, probably as much I as cared for him. No guy would keep coming around if he
didn’t
care, and Gabe kept coming around. He was always pulling for me, for us—he’d proven that every time he’d shown up out of the blue, even when we were risking everything by being seen together. And now that the time had finally come and we were so close to having our chance, the only thing standing in our way was Dad’s approval.