“How long do you think you’ll be? Should I go ahead and fix dinner for all of us?”
“I guess.” He sighed as he turned the car in the opposite direction. “I’m really sorry, Mom. I know I depend on you too much. I’m working on that. I really am.”
“Pooh. You know I love it. And so does Andrew. We can’t get enough of you two. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
Kent smiled, comforted by her response and equally as relieved that his stepfather shared in her enthusiasm. “I have. And I won’t be long, I’m sure. I’ll just swing in and pick it up and head right to your place.”
“I’ll have a big plate of chicken nuggets waiting on you.”
Kent groaned. “Thanks a lot.”
They said their good-byes, and Kent chuckled as he hung up the phone. His mother and stepfather had more than helped him through the past couple of years; they had truly supported him and encouraged him to put one foot in front of the other, day after day. “Lord, give them a double portion of Your blessing.”
His thoughts shifted to the computer as he traveled west on the feeder road. With a new motherboard installed, the machine should be as good as new. At any rate, he couldn’t afford to do without it much longer—not with so much at stake.
Kent drew in a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, deep in thought. In the two and a half years since his wife’s sudden death, he had taken to journaling, writing down his deepest thoughts. They flowed out of his fingertips onto the computer. The keyboard felt natural to him, becoming a close friend and confidante. And now, with his new job at the church, Kent had another reason to rely on the machine.
Of course, with his computer in the shop, the past few weeks he had taken to scribbling down his thoughts on scraps of paper—short, choppy thoughts written down on tiny slips of paper never made for long, flowing messages. That wasn’t to say he could deliver them in a flowing manner, at least not yet. But to try to put together a sermon without a computer seemed nearly impossible. Writing by hand had become, at least for him, a thing of the past. It felt too old-fashioned.
Mr. Twenty-first Century Pastor. Kent chuckled as he thought about what the teens at the church called him these days. They were fascinated by his ability to stay on top of the latest technology. The congregation had recently purchased an amazing video system, and their sound booth held one of the latest soundboards available on the market. Each week, the words to the praise-and-worship songs were flashed up onto large screens via an amazing computer system, which he had put together himself.
Yes, technology certainly intrigued Kent. In his heart, he knew that every bit of it could be used to evangelize—to reach the world with the gospel message. Why else would the Lord have given man the ideas for such items in the first place? These things were worthwhile, and he was more than intrigued. He was hooked.
If you’re so up on modern things, why don’t you just buy a new computer? That old relic doesn’t even have a DVD player. His heart quickened as he considered the possibility. Funny, every time he thought about purchasing a new machine, Kent almost felt sick. He had been using this one the night his wife. . .
No. I won’t let myself think like that. It’s in the past now.
He exited the freeway at Rayford Road, and gave his watch a quick glance. 4:57 p.m. Only three minutes before the shop closed. Hopefully, they would wait on him since they knew he was on his way. Kent whipped into the parking lot of Computers Unlimited, relieved to see another vehicle pulling up at the same time. “Looks like I’m not alone.”
The young woman in the white Saturn hopped out of her car and sprinted toward the door. He quickly followed suit. Thankfully, the door still remained unlocked. An anxious employee stood just behind the counter, staring at the clock on the wall.
“I’m here to pick up my computer.” Both Kent and the young woman spoke in unison and then gazed at each other curiously.
He couldn’t be sure who started laughing first, but both seemed just as quickly embarrassed by it. He smiled in her direction to put her at ease. “You go ahead.”
“No, please. You go.” She fumbled through her purse, coming up with a cell phone.
He shrugged and turned toward the counter. “Kent Chapman.”
“Shauna Alexander.” The young woman continued to fumble with her cell phone as she spoke.
Kent couldn’t help but take notice. Though clearly a little younger than himself, she was awfully cute with her choppy, sandy-colored hair and bright blue eyes. She wore a pair of shorts overalls with a colorful shirt underneath. He guessed her to be in her early twenties.
What are you doing, man? You stopped looking ages ago.
“I didn’t think I’d make it on time,” she said breathlessly. “I was driving like a maniac on the interstate.”
“I thought I recognized that Saturn of yours.” He gave her a warm smile.
“Are you kidding?” She looked at him nervously. “I’m so sorry. I was just in such a hurry.”
“Calm down.” He chuckled. “That was my attempt at a joke.”
“Oh.” She leaned her elbows onto the counter and placed her chin in her hands, obviously weary. “I’m sorry. It’s been kind of a stressful day. I’m starting a new job.”
“Hey, I’m in a new job, too. What do you do?”
Just as she started to answer, two workers rounded the corner with PCs in their hands.
“Kent Chapman?” one of them asked.
“Shauna Alexander?” the other echoed.
Kent and Shauna looked at each other and erupted into laughter again. The computers were identical, right down to the make, model, and color.
“Could this get any more bizarre?” Shauna reached to pull out her credit card.
“I doubt it.” Kent shook his head as he reached for his wallet.
The two chatted as they paid for the repairs and then headed out to their vehicles together. To his left, the sun began to set, nearly blinding Kent with its glare.
At least he thought that dazzle came from the sun. Right now, he couldn’t really be sure.
three
Shauna leaned back against her chair and surveyed the messy dining room table. “Everything was so good, Mom.”
“Thank you.” Her mother flashed a broad smile.
“I sure missed your cooking when I was in school,” Shauna added. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she’d had a better meal. No one could make chicken cacciatore like her mom, and Shauna had done without it far too long.
“Glad you enjoyed it. And I’m happy to have you here to cook for. After you moved up to College Station, I practically stopped cooking altogether. Your father and I ate out more than ever.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.” She looked at her father intently for his response. Surely he would have one.
“Spent a fortune at that new diner on the interstate,” her dad said. “And their food sure didn’t taste like your mom’s.” He made a face.
“I’ll bet.” Shauna couldn’t imagine how her father could have possibly adapted to restaurant food after years of eating like a king. She certainly understood the adjustment after shifting to college-cafeteria foods.
“Didn’t make a whole lot of sense to cook big meals just for the two of us.” Her mother shrugged then reached to pick up Shauna’s plate. “But now that you’re back, I’ll be cooking more. And who knows. . .maybe one of these days I’ll have a houseful of grandbabies to cook for. Then I’ll start fixing meals you can all be proud of again.” She winked for effect.
Shauna groaned. “Oh, Mom.”
“In the meantime,” Shauna’s father pushed his chair away from the table, “I’ll probably take off another ten or twenty pounds. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” He rubbed his protruding belly, and Shauna laughed.
“Wouldn’t hurt you to take off a few pounds,” her mother said as she picked up his plate and added it to the stack.
Shauna snapped to attention as she realized
her mother planned to do the dishes alone. “Oh, don’t mess with that,” she said. “Why don’t you and Dad go watch some TV and let me get the dishes for a change?”
She felt a slight embarrassment at being waited on. Something about it made her feel like a child again. Returning home after college had its perks, to be sure, but she didn’t want to take advantage of her parents in any way.
Her mom’s eyebrows elevated slightly. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Shauna stood and began to clear the table. “You’ve both been so great to let me come back home. The least I can do is carry my own load. I don’t want to be a burden, trust me.”
“You could never be a burden.” Her father stood from his place at the head of the table. “Never have been and never will be.”
Shauna turned to face her parents head-on. “I just want you to know,” she said, “that when my paychecks start rolling in, I plan to help out financially around here. It’s the least I can do.”
“Well now, I don’t know about that. . .” her father looked a little uneasy with the idea.
Shauna crossed her arms as her thoughts flowed freely. “You guys paid all of my college expenses. That’s more than a lot of parents would do. You put a roof over my head for years—before and after college. And you’ve helped me find a job.”
“That’s what parents are for,” he argued.
“I know,” she said, “but you know what the Bible says. . . ‘To whom much is given, much is required.’ I’ve been given so much over the years, and I just want you to know how grateful I am—and how hard I’m going to work to become independent.”
“No big rush, honey.” Her father kissed her on the forehead. “We missed you while you were away, and we love having you home again.”
“I know.” She couldn’t help but smile. “I love being here, too. But I really don’t plan to stay forever, I promise. One of these days I’m going to have a family of my own.” Maybe it won’t be too long.
Her father pressed her into a warm embrace. “Don’t be in any hurry, sweetheart. Just take your time until you’re sure you’ve found someone who’s worthy of you.”
“Sounds like a typical dad comment.” Shauna couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Just doing my job.” He gave her another hug then headed into the living room to read the newspaper.
Shauna whispered the next words, keeping her thoughts to herself, just in case. “I might have someone in mind, already.” She glanced at her cell phone, which sat perched and ready on the kitchen counter. All evening long she had awaited a call from Joey. Would it ever come?
She thought about him as she cleared the table. She dreamed of him as she loaded the dishwasher. Their last few months together in College Station had pretty much sealed their relationship, at least according to her way of thinking. Sure, he was busy with his graduate classes, but soon. . .soon he would come for a visit, and her parents would see just how awesome he was.
She already knew, of course. He was pretty much everything she had always hoped for, right down to the amazing work ethic. His love for the Lord was evident, and he came from a great family. Though he hadn’t expressed much interest in children, she felt sure he would come around. Most guys did, right?
As she worked, Shauna tried to imagine what her life would be like once she and Joey married. Would she stand at a sink like this, rinsing dishes? Would he stand beside her with a dishtowel in hand, ready to help? Would they sit together in the living room afterwards, watching movies and talking about the day’s events? Would they bathe their children then tuck them into bed each night? Shauna wrapped herself deep in thought as she considered the possibilities.
After finishing up the dishes, she set up her computer on the tiny desk in the bedroom she’d loved since childhood. Never one for technical things, she struggled to figure out which cord went with which machine. Finally, convinced she had the thing put together correctly, she sat in the chair and pushed the button, ready to get down to business.
As the machine booted up, Shauna fought the nagging feeling that something felt wrong. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it might be. Something just seemed amiss. Sooner or later it would reveal itself.
The computer went through an unusually slow process of getting to the main screen and even bypassed her password process. “That’s odd.” She tapped at the keyboard, growing anxious. After some time, the monitor lit up, though the colors on the screen threw her a bit.
“What in the world? Where is my wallpaper?” Instead of the usual blue sky and white fluffy clouds, an artistic rendition of the Last Supper covered the screen. “Is someone trying to tell me something?” Not that she minded, but those guys at the computer shop should at least ask before changing her configurations. She scrambled to find the familiar icon for her word processor. For some reason, it had been moved. In fact, nothing seemed to be in the right place.
“Looks like they added more than just a twelve-dollar part. They revamped the whole machine.” Finally, after extensive searching, she found the necessary word-processing program. “It’s about time,” she mumbled. Looking at the blank screen, she began to type:
Dear Joey, I have great news! I’ve got a new job at a day-care center. After searching for days, I finally stumbled across one that’s not too far from my parents’ home. That’s a good thing, considering the fact that gas prices are so high. At least this way I’ll keep my costs down. And here’s a plus—it’s a Christian day care. I’m so excited about that part because I can share my faith with the kids and the other workers.
The lady who runs the place is named Mrs. Fritz. Funny name, right? She’s a little quirky, but, then again, so am I. She’s from the “Old School,” if you know what I mean. I hope that won’t be a problem. At any rate, she seems to like me, and I’m pretty sure I can do a good job. I know I don’t have much teaching time under my belt, but I’m sure the things I learned in college will prove to be valuable.
Speaking of college, how are your classes? I’m so proud of you for going on with your schooling. I don’t know if I’ve said that enough, but I am. Just think, this time next year you’ll have your master’s. Wow!
I know you’re swamped, but I’m still hoping you can come down for a couple of days next month. My parents are dying to meet you. They talk about you all the time. Well, I talk about you all of the time, anyway.
Do you miss me? I think about you almost every day. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten a letter from you yet. Did you get the one I sent last week? I’ve sent a couple of E-mails, too. I know you don’t like the computer, so I guess we’ll just have to stay connected the old-fashioned way.
I guess that’s all for now. I’m going to go to bed tonight thinking of you. Are you thinking of me? Love and kisses, Shauna.
She saved the document, and then reached up to print the letter. Leaning back, she let herself begin to think about Joey. He was two years older and working on his master’s degree in psychology. His dark brown eyes were usually serious, but she didn’t mind that. He was pretty nearly perfect in every other way. They shared similar values and aspirations. Their relationship had been as much academic as romantic, but she hadn’t really minded. Too much.
Shauna looked at the printer suddenly, realizing the document hadn’t begun to print. “What in the world is taking so long?” She immediately checked the printer folder on the PC, but was unable to find the appropriate driver listed. “What do those crazy people think they’re doing?” Her frustration continued to mount.
Why in the world had she paid them before checking their work?
***
Kent turned on the computer, anxious to get busy on his sermon notes. It would take weeks—maybe months—to feel at ease in front of the congregation. The past several Sundays he had faced them with fear and trembling, anxious to hear from God and then share the appropriate message, but terrified he might not be able to speak a single sentence.
The computer seemed to boot up cons
iderably faster than usual. “Wow. Looks like I really got my money’s worth.” The front screen appeared—a soft blue sky with white billowy clouds. “What’s this?” Someone had messed with his wallpaper.
Well, no big deal; probably just some young technician with too much time on his hands. Kent opened the word-processing program and looked around for the familiar folder titled Sermon Notes. Missing.
“Come on now.” Agitation set in. Tampering with something that valuable was no joking matter. Kent began a frantic search of the computer’s programs, looking for his notes. They weren’t here. But lots of other things were. File after file of unidentifiable stuff. Love letters, college papers, personal notes, and. . .
“Ah-ha!” Letterhead. “Shauna J. Alexander.”
Bingo.
four
As Shauna stood out on the back deck of her parents’ home, she sipped a cup of hot coffee and spent a few minutes in prayer. The morning sun beamed high in the sky, causing a bit of a glare. Pinks and purples from the morning’s sunrise had long since been replaced with a bright blue cloudless expanse. Shauna reveled in it a moment longer before picking up the portable phone to make the necessary call. She punched in the now-familiar number, prepared to do battle.
“Hello. Computers Unlimited.” The voice on the other end sounded cheery. A rehearsed cheery.
Undeterred by the fellow’s jovial attitude, she forged ahead. “This is Shauna Alexander,” she started. “I’m. . .”
“Oh, Ms. Alexander,” the friendly voice interrupted. “Say no more. We just heard from Mr. Chapman. He’s got your computer.”
She let out a sigh of relief, happy to know she wouldn’t have to come out swinging. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“We’re so sorry about the mix-up.” Genuine empathy filled his voice. “The technician apparently confused the tags on the two machines. An unusual mistake, at least for us. In fact, I can’t recall when it’s ever happened before.”