“Daddy has to work, baby girl,” he said kissing her forehead. “And you have to get some sleep. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
“No school,” she pouted as he carried her into her room then laid her in the white four-poster bed.
He pulled the covers up to her chin. “Yes, Charity. You know you have to go to school.”
“I work wid you.”
“No, honey.”
She burst into tears and flung her face in the pillow. “No school, Daddy. Teacher mean.”
“Your teacher is mean?” He reached down to stroke her hair. “What did she do to you?”
“She mean, Daddy,” Charity said, shaking her head. “No school. No school.”
Kent shook his head in disbelief. This was not the first time Charity had complained about the new teacher. Why would Mrs. Fritz hire someone who truly didn’t know how to connect with the children? And what should he do about it? Is it my place?
As Kent tucked Charity into bed, he struggled with his feelings of frustration. She needed positive influences in her life. She needed her school to be a peaceful, caring place. But these past few days had been particularly difficult on her, and it certainly looked as if the new teacher was to blame.
Looked like the time had come to do something about his daughter’s complaints.
seven
“Charity, what are you doing?” Kent looked down at his daughter and shook his head in disbelief. “Where are your clothes?”
The giggling youngster pointed to the floor, where her crumpled Sunday dress lay wadded up next to her shoes and socks. Prancing around in ruffled panties, she chanted merrily. “I no like dress, Daddy! I no like dress!”
“I don’t care if you like it or not,” Kent said sternly. “You’re going to wear that dress to church. Now let’s put it back on like a big girl. Daddy’s going to be late.” He reached down to pick up the delicate dress, holding it carefully. Somehow, just doing so reminded him of Faith. This was one of the few items she had purchased before Charity’s birth.
I know it’s silly. The baby’s not even here yet. But it was on sale, and I loved it!
Kent closed his eyes, running his fingers across the lace collar. A loud flush of the toilet brought him back to his senses. “Charity, what are you doing?” He raced into the bathroom just in time to see the water begin to rise to the top of the toilet. A shoe spun madly in the blue water. Two socks, now tinged blue, floated nearby.
“Where is your other shoe?” he demanded, reaching to turn the water off at the wall. He quickly fished the tiny socks out.
“Shoe bye-bye!”
“Charity? What do you mean? Where is your other shoe?”
She pointed at the toilet, erupting into laughter. “I fwush shoe! Shoe bye-bye!” She jumped into the empty bathtub and began to dance about like a banshee. Kent’s head drooped to the edge of the toilet seat in frustration.
“Of course you did. Why should this Sunday be different from any other?” He rolled up his sleeve and plunged his arm down into the toilet until he was in almost up to his elbow. His hand finally reached the tiny shoe, which had lodged itself at the base of the toilet. He pulled it out, feeling a momentary surge of triumph. “I got it!” he exclaimed, turning toward Charity. A silent, empty bathtub stared back at him.
He sprang up from the floor and made his way into Charity’s bedroom, where he searched, half-frantic, half-frustrated. “Charity!”
“Boo!” She jumped out from behind the door, nearly scaring the wits out of him.
Kent drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. “Charity, come to Daddy. We have to get ready for church.” This time she obliged, though he had to bribe her with the promise of a trip to Grandma’s house after church in order to accomplish the task.
For the next several minutes, he attempted to balance the task of dressing the precocious youngster, reading over his sermon notes, and searching for his missing Bible. He found it on his bedside table, underneath a picture Charity had colored for him. By the time they reached the church, he felt his nerves had nearly unraveled. With a sigh of relief, he dropped her off in the nursery and headed to his office for a few moments of prayer and reflection.
***
“What do you mean you’re going to another church?” Shauna’s mother sat across the breakfast table, looking stunned. “Your father and I were counting on spending the day with you. We’ve hardly had a moment with you since you got your new job. And your aunts and uncles will be there. Everyone has missed you.”
“I know, Mom,” Shauna explained with great care. “But I’m ready for a change. To be perfectly honest, I’m a little bored at your church. There’s no one my age there. I had something a little different in mind today.”
“Different?” Her mother’s eyebrows shot straight up.
“Don’t worry,” Shauna said with a smile. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“I sure hope so.” Her mother shook her head.
Shauna spent a great deal of time picking out exactly the right outfit. “I look awful in purple,” she said, tossing a blouse onto the bed. “And this gray skirt is too small. I might as well give it away. Hmm. . . What about this?” She held up a soft blue summer dress with short sleeves and a delicate, flowing skirt. “This must be just the ticket. And it’s still warm enough to wear a summer dress.” She turned around in front of the mirror, holding it up in front of her. “Yes, I do believe so. Mr. Twenty-First Century Pastor is going to be mighty surprised when he sees me in his congregation, I’d be willing to bet.”
Shauna’s laughter suddenly turned to trembling. She sat slowly on the edge of the bed, realizing just how close she had come to betraying Joey with her thoughts. She cared for him. At least, she was fairly sure she did. Right now, everything seemed a little out of focus.
Lord, show me what to do. I really do need a church where I can feel connected—a part of things. If I’m going just because of Kent Chapman, then stop me in my tracks, Father.
A sense of peace washed over her and she felt, for the first time in a while, like she heard God’s heart on the matter. She was in a place where she needed a new church. Nothing wrong in admitting that. She needed people her own age and a good, solid discipleship program.
And her motives weren’t off. There was nothing wrong with admiring someone like Kent Chapman simply for being a man of God.
“I’ll go,” she whispered to no one but herself. “But who knows if I’ll even like it.”
Sometime later, she found herself in an unfamiliar sanctuary, staring at unfamiliar people. The whole thing felt a little odd, but Shauna determined in her spirit to give the place a fighting chance.
She stood at the back for a while as well-meaning parishioners introduced themselves right and left. An older woman shook hands and offered her a bulletin. A girl about her own age pointed out a “Twenty-Something” class the church was just starting. The worship leader approached her, asking if she might be interested in joining the choir. And when she paused to say hello to a little boy with tight curly hair, his mother—who turned out to be the church’s preschool director—asked if she might be interested in working in the nursery.
Right now, to be perfectly honest, Shauna simply wanted to find a place to sit and observe. Perhaps those other things would come in time. She took her place in an empty pew near the back, thankful to be away from the crowd for a moment.
Still, the people came. A beautiful woman with two little boys scooted in next to her. She introduced herself as Vicky Ebert, but not before singing Kent Chapman’s praises. Curiosity drove Shauna to glance down at the woman’s hand to see if she wore a wedding ring. Nothing. Vicky dove into a lengthy discussion about single parenting, and Shauna tried to focus, but she found it difficult with so much activity going on around her.
An older couple scooted in on her other side. The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Witherspoon, filled her in on a program the children’s choir would be performing in late October.
With great animation, she invited Shauna to attend. Shauna politely nodded and told her she would check her calendar.
Goodness, they’re a friendly bunch. Over the past several minutes, Shauna had found herself in comfortable conversation with several folks she had never before met, which served to still her anxious heart. . .until she glanced up at the front of the auditorium and laid eyes on Kent Chapman in his dark gray suit.
Guilt suddenly permeated her being. Why had she come here, after all? To see a man? Had God really drawn her to this place, or were there more evil motives at work?
“I must be crazy,” she mumbled, as she looked for the exit at the back of the sanctuary. “Or worse—a heretic.” She glanced at her watch, realizing that she probably had just enough time to make it up the aisle and out the door before the opening music began. If she played her cards right, she could be out of here in a flash, and he would never even know she had come. Shauna slipped out—beyond the chattering Vicky Ebert—and into the aisle.
Turning, she immediately found herself face-to-face with Kent Chapman. “Oh, hi. I, uh. . .” Caught.
“I’m so happy to see you,” the cheerful pastor said with a smile. He extended a hand in her direction. She reached out to shake it, glancing down at his hand.
“What happened to you?” she asked, fighting to hide the laughter in her voice. His white sleeve was covered in tinges of blue.
“Oh, I. . .” He reached to cover it up with his other hand. “That’s a long story. I guess I’ll have to tell you later. You weren’t leaving were you?”
“Leaving? Me?” Shauna stammered. “Why would I do that? I just got here.” She couldn’t help but notice the smile that lit his face as she spoke. Her heart suddenly felt warmed by it, though she couldn’t explain why. “Could you tell me where the ladies’ room is?” she whispered.
He pointed toward the back of the sanctuary and to the left. “It’s just around the corner,” he whispered back. “But I don’t think that’s where you were headed. You were going to chicken out on me, weren’t you?”
“Chicken out?” she said loudly. “Me? You think I’m scared of your sermons?” She sat defiantly in the pew and reached for her Bible. “You just get on up there and preach, Mr. Twenty-First Century Pastor. I’m all ears.
eight
Shauna gripped the piece of paper in her tightly clenched fist.
“What’ve you got there, girl?” Ellen asked. “A love letter?”
Shauna tried not to let the frustration show in her voice as she explained. “It is a letter from my boyfriend, but not a love letter. He’s supposed to be coming down to meet my parents sometime soon, but. . .”
“But what?” Ellen almost dropped the large jar of jelly.
“He’s going on a weekend fishing trip with some of his buddies. Which is okay, of course, but I really hoped he would come to see me sometime before the end of the month. Now it looks like I’ll have to wait till the end of October when he has his fall break.” She sighed, not knowing if she could take being away from him another month.
“So, are you two an item?” Ellen asked, licking grape jelly off of her fingers. “I mean, are you getting engaged?”
Shauna shrugged, folding the paper and putting it in her pocket. “I’m clueless,” she said with a shrug. “If you had asked me that a couple of months ago, I might have said yes, but nothing is clear right now. Nothing but being here and working and spending time with my family.”
“Who needs guys anyway?” Ellen said with a smirk. “They only break your heart.”
“Aw, come on,” Shauna said, “Let’s stop talking about them. Besides, I need to get back to the kids.” She pointed to the table where the children sat eating ice cream.
“It’s unusually quiet today,” Ellen observed, looking at the group. “What’s up?”
“Charity’s not here.”
“Ah.”
“She’s got a stomach ache,” Shauna explained. “Her grandmother called this morning to say she wasn’t coming in today, so I decided to throw myself a little party.” She held up her bowl of ice cream.
Ellen screwed the top back onto the jar of jelly. “You’re cruel.”
“No, I’m not,” Shauna argued. “I’ve only worked here two weeks, and I’m already thinking about quitting.”
“You’re not.”
“I am. You should try working with that kid. She’s completely impossible. Do you know what she did the other day?”
“No telling.”
“She went to the bathroom then smeared it all over the wall.”
“Yuck!”
“Yeah, no kidding. And guess who got to clean it up. But that wasn’t all. Remember the other day when the kids were watching Tangled?
“Yeah.”
“I must have gotten a little too wrapped up in the movie,” Shauna said with a shrug, “ ’cause the next thing I know, she’s in my purse, getting out my lipstick.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were. She covered half of her face before I could snatch it out of her hands. Then she broke it. My best lipstick.”
“I’m so sorry, Shauna.” Ellen reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. “It seems like you’ve had nothing but trouble with that little girl.”
“I know this is terrible,” Shauna said with a slight groan, “but I’m praying her family will move her to another school. Is that awful? I know it’s awful, but I’m ready to quit over one little girl.” Her words came fast and furiously. “Is it really possible for one child to so completely disrupt my life?”
“It’s possible. Obviously.”
“Well, I know this sounds just terrible, but I don’t know how much more of it I can take. Sometimes I think I learned absolutely nothing in school. I should be able to handle things like this. I really should.” Shauna shook her head in defeat. “I feel so helpless sometimes.”
“Just give it time,” Ellen responded. “You’re still on a learning curve.”
“Looks like I will be for a long, long time.”
“In the meantime, looks like you’ve got another problem on your hands.” Ellen pointed to the table, where three of the children had started putting ice cream in one another’s hair.
“Great.” Shauna shook her head in despair. “I tell you—some days I just want to go back to school and get my beautician’s license.”
***
Kent yawned loudly, leaning back in his oversized chair. Pictures of Shauna Alexander in that blue dress wouldn’t seem to leave him. “Snap out of it, man. You’ve got a lot of work to do.” He turned back toward the pile of mail that needed to be answered.
Another yawn erupted, a reminder of his lack of sleep. Charity had cried late into the night, refusing to settle down in her own bed. Frustrated, he had relented, allowing her to crawl into bed next to him. That didn’t work either. She was too fussy to rest. His solution had come in the form of a car ride at 2:15 a.m. The movement had lulled her to sleep. Exhausted, he had tumbled into bed sometime around three.
Then, awakened at five thirty, when she insisted it was time to begin the day. No sooner did he get her dressed than she lost the contents of her breakfast all over the living room carpet. Instead of spending the day at the day care, she would stay with his mother, who, thank goodness, happened to be taking a day off from the bookstore.
Kent felt particularly guilty leaving her on a day like today, when she didn’t feel well. He tried to balance that guilt against the exhaustion that so often permeated him these days. Would it continue forever? He stifled back a yawn, trying to focus. With so much to be done, he must remain clearheaded. There were E-mails to be sent, sermons to be written, phone calls to be made.
Phone calls. He needed to go over the visitor’s list from last Sunday and make the usual calls to thank them for their visit. It was a logical thing to do. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Yes, there were phone calls to make. And he suddenly knew which visitor he would call first.
Kent
punched in the number with a bit of anxiety. The phone rang one, two, three times. On the fourth ring an answering machine kicked in. “You’ve reached the Alexanders. We’re not here to take your call right now, but if you leave a message, we’ll get back to you. Have a blessed day.”
Kent fumbled for words, preparing to give his rehearsed speech. Funny, once he started talking, everything seemed to come out backwards, upside-down. He couldn’t even manage to speak in a simple sentence. He struggled to get his message across, to ask that all-important question. When he felt that there was nothing left to say, he hung up, dejected.
“Great. She’ll think I’m nuts.”
***
Shauna listened to the messages, hoping to hear Joey’s voice. At the very least, he owed her a phone call. Then again, he hadn’t called once since her arrival in Houston. Most of the messages were for her mother or father. She was just about to give up entirely when an oddly familiar voice kicked in. Was that. . .? Nah, it couldn’t be.
“Shauna, this is Pastor Chapman. I mean, Kent Chapman. First of all, thank you for coming last Sunday. I hope you enjoyed the service. We enjoyed having you. I. . .” He seemed to hesitate a bit here, and she wondered where he might be headed. “I, uh. . .I enjoyed seeing you again. In fact. . .” His voice broke again. “I was wondering if you were free this Friday night. I thought maybe dinner and a movie might be nice. I know this is a little, well. . . I know we hardly know each other, but. . .”
There was a definitive pause in the message. Shauna smiled as his voice kicked in again. “Okay, this is it. . . . I’d love to see you this Friday night. Call me at the church if you’re even remotely interested. The number is in the bulletin you got on Sunday. Or call me at home. Unless you think this is completely inappropriate. But. . .” His voice trailed off. “I really prayed before calling, I promise. I never do things like this. Never.”
Shauna tried to imagine the expression on his face as he left the message—the obvious fear in those beautiful green eyes. Was he worried, nervous? He certainly sounded like a teenager asking a girl out for the first time.