She had worried needlessly about the campers
’
behavior. She expected the choir to sing, but they danced through every song—fluid with the beat of a djembe drum. Their smiles warmed her heart while their voices arced and soared around gym.
The director had the audience stand to sing and dance with the children. All around her the campers jumped and twirled a
wkwardly between their giggles.
She glanced toward Drew. He hopped up and down with his head tilted first to one side, then the other in time to the music—totally unself-conscious. She stilled and watched him as the song came to an end. In that moment something deep within her reached across the aisle and bonded with him.
#
The concert ended—too soon. As the halogen lights warmed up, Drew scrubbed his face dry with his hands. He hadn’t realized he was crying. The stories of the children wove into his heart—the black-skinned boy who had been abducted to fight in a
guerilla
army, the brother and sister who had been raised by an old woman in their village after their parents died until she could no longer feed them, the small boy who said with a loud voice that Jesus had brought him to Africa Cries Mission.
Inside, his gut ached.
What, Lord? What do You want me to do?
He could sponsor a child for thirty-five dollars a month. He could write a check to Africa Cries to help with the orphanage upkeep and expansion. Or he could accept the job offer.
He filed out with the campers into the string of African children lined up by the door. A girl about seven gave him a big smile and wrapped her arms around his neck when he bent down to thank her for coming. The next girl looked at the floor and offered him a shy hand. The boy named Josef, with one arm tucked behind his back, shook Drew’s hand with gusto.
He ducked out of line and slipped through the door into the night. He couldn’t meet any more children. He could barely hold it together until he got to the tree line where no one would hear him. The contrast of their tragic stories and their wide smiles had shredded his emotions.
He sank down on his knees beside a bench in the outdoor classroom. Canopied by pines, he wept. The faces from the video of hundreds of children sleeping in train stations and under hospitals flooded his mind. He hadn’t cried like this since he was a kid.
Finally, the wave of emotion crash
ed and receded. He could feel
sweat forming in his armpits. The rain
had ended
and heat hung in the moist air.
He’d been praying about Africa all summer. Was it a coincidence the choir broke his heart hours after he’d been offered the director’s job? No. He was certain God
pointed
him to Africa Cries. Sam and Rainey
balled
confusion
in his chest
, but he’d go find Owen Delsen and tell him he’d take the job.
#
Raine stacked the chairs on the racks at the side of the gym. She could call the teen boys’ counselor and he’d bring his cabin back to help, but she wanted to be alone.
She’d never been to Africa, but God brought Africa to her in the beautiful brown-skinned children bursting with talent and love.
Thanks.
God
had been
kind to her. Tonight she felt His benediction on her longing to go to Africa. She would go.
Aly knocked on the outside garage door where Cal said she could find him. She told him it was an emergency—hers. She didn’t want him thinking this had to do with Raine. She did need Cal. He was her best friend.
No answer. She could see light coming from around the door. She twisted the knob, and the door gave way. Heavy metal music pulsated from a paint-splattered boom box. Cal sat on the foot of an open sofa bed, his back to her. He faced Raine’s portrait propped against a ten-speed bike.
She stepped around the boxes stacked on the grease-stained cement and looked at Cal. He stared blankly at the portrait. Was he high? He looked up at her when she stepped into his field of vision.
She turned the music down. “Raine told me about the other day. I’m sorry.”
His jaw clenched under the coarse, brown stubble. “What’s your emergency?”
She sank down beside him on the bare, fold-out mattress. “I
—
I think I’m pregnant.”
He looked at her, his expression losing some of the sullenness. “What are you going to do?” His voice was flat.
“I don’t know.” She lay back on the mattress, blowing all the air out of her lungs. “I did the math today.” A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.
Cal looked down at her. Self-pity and compassion warred in his face.
He
dropped onto one elbow beside her. “I’m sorry, Al.” He
wiped
away the tear with
his finger
. The tenderness he scraped from somewhere deep inside made her want to cry even more.
Cal gathered her to him with one arm and held her while she swallowed the tears in her throat.
She let out a ragged sigh.
“Hey, it’s not a contest. You didn’t have to come up with bigger issues than I’ve got.” Cal lay back leaving his arm around her shoulders.
She gave him a smile that was not a smile.
“Your love language is touch, did you ever realize that? That’s how you give and receive love. That’s why you—”
“Say it. That’s why I sleep with guys.” She squeezed her eyes shut, but tears leaked out the corners running across the bridge of her nose and into her hair.
Cal dropped his free arm over her, and she curled into him.
“I did
n’t mean to hurt you. Come on, d
on’t cry.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to hold me like you’re holding me now.”
“You haven’t had a dad since you were seven. Of course, you’re going to go looking for what you missed.”
The truth of his words soaked into her spirit, and she cried. Silent sobs racked her body.
When she looked up at Cal, there were tears on his cheeks—for Raine, she was sure. Somehow, that was okay. She snuggled her nose against Cal’s scratchy neck. There was no place she would rather be.
“We could, you know…” she drew circles on his chest with her finger, “comfort each other.” Her words were muffled against
the
neck of Cal’s T-shirt.
Cal didn’t say anything, didn’t move. It felt like he stopped breathing for a moment.
“It was a dumb idea. Forget I said it.” She started to roll away.
Cal held on. “Stay here. Let me hold you. You don’t need another guy to use you right now.”
She relaxed against him.
“I told Raine you and I were like siblings, but—” Cal pulled away a little so he could see her face. Skin bunched under his chin. “That’s not quite right, is it?”
#
Raine slid into Drew’s truck while he held the door he’d unlocked for her. Through the windshield she could see Jesse stoking the fire for the teen campfire. A residue of orange lay on the horizon.
The glow from the dashboard bathed Drew’s cheekbones
,
bringing out his strong jaw. She shifted uncomfortabl
y. This wasn’t a date. Drew had reconciled with Sam by now for all she knew.
He certainly
could
n’t read anything into stopping by her folks’ to pick up her mail. She shook her head slightly to dispel the pull she felt. She could have
ridden her bike
, but she’d been on edge about Eddie for days.
Drew pulled into her driveway and she jumped out of the truck before he could think of coming around to open her door.
She kissed her mother, breathing in the scent of
Happy
a second before Antoine galumphed across the room and nearly knocked her over with his huge paws on her shoulders.
“Down!” She pushed him off her, but not before he slimed her cheek. “Yuck. Say hi to Drew, why don’t you?”
Drew came in the door after her. “Hey.”
Antoine skittered across the wood floor and hid behind Dad’s recliner.
“You big sissy.” Drew laughed.
“Stopping by for my mail.” She bent over and pressed her cheek to Dad’s forehead—doing the expected.
She grabbed her
stack of envelopes
off the hall table, half listening to her father talking to Drew.
Florida Christian
College Alumni Newsletter, two credit card offers, bingo! She held up the envelope from the mission organization.
“What have you got there, Raine?” Dad peered at her over the reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. The newspaper rattled in his lap.
If there was any way around it, she wouldn’t tell him. “Teaching contract for Africa.”
Dad sat forward, causing the footrest to thump down against the chair as his feet hit the floor. “Don’t sign it.”
She bit on the inside of her cheek to keep from yelling. “I’m twenty-two. I’ve already given my verbal agreement. And I don’t need your permission.” She kept her gaze from Drew. She didn’t want reminded of their discussion.
“That’s true, legally speaking. But I am still your authority spiritually.”
“You want to control me.”
“I want to keep you safe. Your well-being is my responsibility before God. If you were married—that would be different.”
She blew a puff of air through her lips. “I’ve got someone who wants to marry me.”
Mom and Dad
both looked at Drew.
For a fraction of a second Drew registered shock, before the familiar tease pulled across his face like a window shade. “Rainey, I—”
“Not Drew.” She waved away whatever it was Drew was going to say. “I should go ahead and marry the guy—no matter how unsuited he is for mission work.”
And I don’t love him!
“
Would you be happy then?”
Her father shook his head, and she saw how white the stripe down his part had gotten. “Of course, I don’t want you to marry someone solely as a means to get to Africa. But I can’t give my blessing for you to go as a single woman.”
She was still boiling inside, but her father seemed almost sad. Sad and granite.
“We have to get back.” She hugged her mother, one last breath of
Happy
, and walked out the door. She fumed in the truck for another five minutes till Drew ambled out the front door.
“What took you so long?”
Drew smirked. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
She threw her arms up. “I wish I were a guy—”
“I don’t.” Drew eased the truck into the intersection and accelerated.
She ignored him. “Dad wants everyone to know he’s still king of his mountain.”
Drew pulled into a space at
Old Fort Park
. “Out!”
“You’re kicking me out?” Her mouth dropped open.
“You’re going to walk around the park until you get the anger out of your system. Then, we’re going to talk.”
“About?”
He leaned across her and opened the door. She felt the pressure of his arm against her. “Marriage.”
#
Cal startled awake. It took a moment for him to realize where he was. He stared at the bare bulb overhead while his mind cleared. Cody’s garage. He felt a weight on his arm and saw Aly curled into him in sleep. He hadn’t gotten loaded and— No. They were both fully clothed. He relaxed.
He looked at her pale lashes resting on her cheek, her honey rose lips slightly parted in sleep. It was the face he’d fallen in love with at seventeen, the face he’d painted at eighteen. And now she offered herself to him. Ironic because he had fallen in love with Raine—beautiful, impossible-to-please Raine who served a beautiful, impossible-to-please God.
Aly had made him forget his misery for a few minutes. What if she was pregnant? She was still two years from her career. Career meant a lot to Aly. He supposed it was because she anticipated having to support herself indefinitely. Her mother had been thrown into that life. Aly wanted to be prepared.
He smiled, thinking about Aly’s offer. He almost got the feeling lately Aly cared for him. Too late. He thought about the passionate jealousy he’d felt toward every one of her boyfriends. Not Gar. Aly barely
liked
Gar. The guy was an idiot, not worth getting worked up over. And he could be the father of Aly’s child.
He still loved Aly on some level, but it was hard to say how. First love, maybe. The cord stretched both ways between them. He thought of the five years of his doodles that papered Aly’s room. He’d never known.
Aly stirred, and he felt his body responding. He had to get out of this bed. Now. He eased away from her and her eyes popped open. He glanced at the digital clock on his phone.