Ben folded his arms, his weight on one hip. “I just wanted to let you know I have your two-week evaluation completed. I plan to show it to Philip this evening, and then you’ll receive a copy on Monday. If you agree with my assessment of your performance, you’ll simply sign off, and we’ll have a second evaluation at six weeks. If you have any areas of disagreement, you, Philip, and I will schedule a conference to discuss it.”
Angela managed a nod. So that’s why he’d been watching. She suddenly felt very foolish. “I—I’m sure your assessment will be fair.” Dropping her gaze to the floor, she confessed, “I know I’m not very good at this, but I am trying.”
“I know. I can tell.”
Her chin shot up, her startled gaze bouncing to meet his once more. He’d sounded … nice.
He pointed to the Bible she continued to hug like a lifeline. “I noticed you reading during breaks. What book are you studying?”
Angela glanced at the Bible in her arms. A light, self-conscious laugh escaped. “I’m not sure you’d call what I’m doing studying. The Bible is kind of new to me, so I’ve just been skipping around, reading here and there.” Realizing how flighty that sounded, she hastened to add, “But I’m enjoying it, and a lot of it is really making sense.”
Ben tipped his head, his brows coming down. “Are you a Christian?”
“Yes, I am,” Angela said. “But I’m afraid I’m as new to Christianity as I am to New Beginnings. I have a lot to learn in both areas.”
His nod seemed to hold approval. “What church do you attend?”
Angela blinked. “Church? Well, I don’t—I just got back from”—she swallowed, seeking words that would be honest yet would protect her—”a training program, and I became a Christian while I was away. I haven’t found a church yet.”
“Your family doesn’t attend?”
Angela stifled the laugh that threatened. Her parents? In church? Her mother gave up that “gobbledygook,” as she called it, when she graduated from high school, and her father had never been interested. They did attend the big church downtown for Easter and Christmas services, but that was more for public appearances than anything else. If Petersburg didn’t have a huge, statued, bricked, bell-towered church, her parents probably wouldn’t bother at all, but Dad felt walking into that ostentatious building gave him some prestige.
She realized Ben still waited for an answer. She shook her head. “Uh-uh. My parents aren’t churchgoers.”
“Well, I attend a small church out on the highway. It’s called Grace Fellowship. The building used to be a restaurant, but it closed years ago. I know it isn’t fancy”—his gaze swept up and down her outfit, creating a rush of embarrassment—”but we have a growing young adult group, with services on Sunday morning and evening, as well as a Wednesday night Bible study. Would you be interested in attending?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of being in a formal study group. Carrie had encouraged her to join a church where she could grow. “Oh, yes, I’d like that a lot!”
His warm smile made her tummy tremble. “Good. Would you like to attend this coming Sunday morning? I’d be glad to give you a ride.”
Fluttering her lashes, Angela quipped, “It’s a date.”
Immediately she regretted her action. How easily she’d slipped into flirtation. Again. But it wasn’t appropriate—not for this setting and with this situation. The warmth in Ben’s eyes disappeared to be replaced with a guarded look that was like a splash of cold water over Angela.
“I—I mean I would very much appreciate a ride. Thank you.” Her stuttered words did little to ease the tense moment.
Ben gave a brusque nod. “What’s your address?”
At least he was still willing to take her. Her hands shook as she penned her address on a scrap of paper and handed it over. She offered a meek smile. “Thank you again, Ben. I do appreciate the ride.”
He looked at the address, and his eyebrows shot upward. She knew what he was thinking—everyone in town was familiar with the Eastbrook Estates. She waited for him to change his mind and tell her she wouldn’t fit in at his simple, used-to-be-a-restaurant church, but he slipped the paper into his breast pocket and said, “I’ll be by around nine fifteen. Sunday school starts at nine thirty, and the worship service at ten forty-five.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be ready. Well …” She waved a hand toward the door, inching in the direction of the exit. “I told my aunt I’d stop by after work and have some milk and cookies with her.” A nervous giggle erupted. Had she really just told Ben she’d be having milk and cookies?
But he didn’t make any snide remarks. He didn’t even smirk. With a quick upturning of lips, he turned toward his desk. “I’ll see you Sunday morning. Have a good weekend.”
“Yes … Sunday. And thank you.” Before she could say or do anything else to embarrass herself, she escaped.
Ben curled the fingers of one hand around the steering wheel as he maneuvered through the late afternoon traffic toward Elmwood Towers. His other hand tapped restlessly on the fold-down console. A pepperoni pizza sat in the passenger seat, its aroma teasing Ben’s senses. He tried to focus on his upcoming dinner with his cousin Kent to get his mind off of the mouthwatering spicy smell—and off of Angela Fisher.
Why had he invited her to church? Or more specifically, why had he offered to take her? She had transportation—he whistled—boy, did she have transportation! Yet he’d opened his mouth and offered her a ride in his six-year-old midsized truck that didn’t even have a backseat to put some distance between them. He gave the console a pat. At least the twelve-inch barrier would be in place.
If he didn’t want to get close to her, why had he issued the invite? He knew why. There had been something in her unusual light blue eyes…. When she’d admitted she had a lot to learn both as a New Beginnings employee and as a Christian, a little something inside of him had melted. The insecurity lurking in her eyes had been all too familiar. He understood the feeling. Empathized with it. A dozen years ago he had felt lost and uncertain, and a schoolmate had reached out to him. What a difference it had made.
He didn’t know how he would have managed the past few years without the strength of Christ bolstering him. The loss of his father and uncle in a boating accident, followed by Kent’s spiral into drug addiction, were burdens that would have overwhelmed him had it not been for his reliance on Jesus. Ben’s heart ached at the route Kent had taken to find comfort. He sensed in Angela the same longing for acceptance and peace.
As Angela’s direct supervisor, it was his responsibility to mentor her at work. As a Christian, it was his responsibility to be a good example. Inviting her to church was one way of mentoring.
Mentoring … That was it. Just mentoring …
A red light brought him to a halt. His thoughts skipped backward, replaying the flutter of her eyelashes and the flirtatious, “It’s a date.” His fingers curled over the edge of the console. He hoped he’d managed to squelch that idea. In his observations over the past two weeks, he’d surmised Angela had lived a rather self-serving lifestyle. She was entirely too flippant, too self-absorbed. If he were going to date, he’d want someone warm and soft, with an aura of holiness brought through a relationship with Jesus.
Not to mention someone who didn’t shy away from the disabled. Shaking his head, he replayed several recent scenes. Yes, as he’d told her, he knew she was making an effort, but she had a long way to go to be completely accepting and supportive of the clients at New Beginnings. Anyone he dated would eventually be around Kent, and he wouldn’t risk having Kent hurt by someone’s withdrawal.
The light changed, and he pulled forward, a small niggle of guilt striking at his thoughts. He hoped he wasn’t being judgmental. But Angela, despite her physical beauty, didn’t possess the qualities he wanted in a life mate. It would be unkind and dishonest to lead her to believe he had any interest in her beyond employer to employee, Christian mentor to mentee. He’d have to watch himself, no
t give her the wrong idea.
He turned onto Elmwood Avenue, the last stretch. The six high-rise apartments of Elmwood Towers loomed ahead. Kent waited in Tower Three. Ben whispered a quick prayer of gratitude for the assisted-living apartments in each of those towers. It had taken some fancy footwork by New Beginnings’ owner Philip Wilder to get one quad in each of the retirement village’s apartment buildings designated for adults with handicaps, but what a service it was to those in the community who faced challenges.
Getting Kent into one of those apartments had done him so much good. The small measure of independence had boosted Kent’s confidence, built his self-esteem, and put him more on a level with his peers. What single man in his late twenties wanted to live at home with his mother?
Ben pulled into a visitor’s space, shut off the ignition, and picked up the pizza box. Hitting the automatic lock on his key chain, he turned toward Tower Three, but a glint of silver caught his eye. He stopped, turned, and stared.
Sure enough. The silver rocket—Angela’s car—sat six stalls over.
three
Angela popped the last bite of her fourth chocolate chip cookie into her mouth, swigged the final gulp from her half-pint carton of milk, and released a satisfied sigh. “Oh, Aunt Eileen, that was wonderful.” She patted her stomach, laughing. “But I think I’d better skip supper tonight! I’m going to waddle out of here!”
Eileen and her friend Alma, on the couch facing Angela across the low walnut table scattered with magazines, empty milk cartons, and cookie crumbs, both laughed. The older women exchanged winks.
“Now, Angela, when you look like me”—Eileen gave her own bulky midsection a two-handed squeeze—”you can worry about waddling. Until then, neither of us wants to hear about it!”
All three women laughed. When Angela arrived at her aunt’s apartment after work, Eileen had suggested taking the cookies to the foyer of Tower Three and sharing with a friend of hers who’d been down in the dumps since a hospital stay. At first Angela had balked, not willing to share Aunt Eileen with anyone else. But seeing Alma’s enjoyment of the cookies and conversation made her regret her selfishness. She had a lot to learn about reaching out to others, she realized.
Aunt Eileen would be a great teacher in that regard. Her mother’s older sister was unpretentious, warmhearted, and open, unlike the rest of Angela’s family. Eileen and Angela’s mother had grown up dirt-poor, but while Mother had sought riches in married life, Eileen had married a salesman who made little more than enough to pay the necessary bills. Uncle Stan had passed away years ago, leaving Eileen alone, yet she had never wallowed in self-pity. Angela held great admiration for her aunt, even though her parents often commented with a hint of disdain that their lifestyles didn’t “mesh.”
The smell of pizza wafted through the foyer, and Angela looked over her shoulder toward the double doors. She did a double take when she saw who carried the pizza. She leaped to her feet. “Ben?”
“Ben?” Eileen repeated, shooting Angela a smirky grin.
Angela felt her face flood with heat. How disconcerting to have him walk in after having spent a good fifteen minutes entertaining the two older ladies by describing his physical attributes and being teased about his Sunday invitation.
He glanced in her direction and imitated her double take, coming to an abrupt halt that nearly sent the pizza flying from his palm. Grabbing the box with both hands, he took two steps in her direction. A wary smile creased his face. “Angela … hi. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Angela brushed cookie crumbs from her lap. She hoped she didn’t have any crumbs on her face. “Ben, I’d like you to meet my aunt, Eileen Cassidy, and her friend Alma …?” To her embarrassment, she couldn’t remember Alma’s last name.
But Ben smiled. “Hello again, Mrs. Andrews. It’s good to see you home and looking well. Kent told me you had quite a time. And Mrs. Cassidy, nice to see you, too. Philip was just mentioning he needed to come by here and see what you’re up to.”
Angela swung her gaze back and forth, listening, her jaw hanging open. Eileen knew Ben?
Eileen laughed as she pushed to her feet, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, that Philip. He couldn’t take better care of me if he were my own son.”
Ben’s warm smile sent Angela’s heart pattering even though it was aimed at Eileen. “I know he thinks the world of you.” He paused, rocking on his heels, then took a hesitant step toward the elevators. “Well … I’d better go. Pizza’s getting cold, and I’m expected.”
“Bye, Ben!” Eileen called, waving a pudgy hand.
Alma added, “Have fun with Kent!”
The moment the elevator doors closed on Ben, Angela wheeled on her aunt. “Aunt Eileen! Why didn’t you tell me you knew Ben?”
Eileen sat back down, shrugging. She wore a look of innocence. “How was I to know the Ben you were talking about is the same Ben I know? There are a lot of Bens in the world.” Her sparkling eyes gave her away even before the giggled snort blasted out. “Of course I knew you were talking about Ben Atchison. What other Ben works at New Beginnings? He’s a wonderful young man, and I’m tickled pink you two have formed a friendship.”
Angela collapsed against the back of the couch. “I’d hardly call what we have a friendship … yet.” Her heart gave a hopeful flutter. “But—” She leaned forward, suddenly eager. “Tell me everything you know. Who is he meeting here? This Kent—is he an uncle?”
Alma shook her head, her wrinkled face sad. “No, honey, not an uncle. His cousin. A young man not much older than you.”
Angela shook her head as understanding dawned. These apartments housed retirement-age individuals except for those few apartments set aside for the special-needs community. Then that meant … She bit down on her lower lip as she glanced toward the elevator doors. Turning back to Alma, she said, “You mean his cousin is handicapped?”
“I’m afraid so.” Alma pursed her lips, her face creasing in disapproval. “The result of a drug overdose. He’d been perfectly healthy up to that time.” She shook her head, her chins quivering. “Such a waste …”
Angela swallowed. The cookies suddenly didn’t set so well. “So—so what’s wrong with Kent? What did the overdose do?”
Alma sighed. “Such a tragedy …” She leaned forward, licking her lips.
Eileen patted Alma’s hand. “We should be careful not to gossip.”
Alma’s cheeks mottled with pink. “Oh, well, I certainly wouldn’t want to do that….” She reached for another cookie.
Angela felt a little twinge of guilt for encouraging gossip. She’d indulged in more than her fair share of unnecessary talk over the years. But small wonder—Mother was so good at it. However, that wasn’t an excuse. Another habit she needed to break. She winged a silent prayer for God to keep her aimed in the right direction; then she returned her thoughts to Ben.
Her heart ached as things fell into place. Kent must be why Ben worked at New Beginnings. He had a personal stake in reaching out to those with disabilities. Something else struck hard, making her heart race. Kent’s disability was the result of drug use. That could have been me…. Oh, thank You, Lord, that I didn’t go that far….
She stood again, forcing a smile to her lips. “Aunt Eileen, thank you for the cookies. And, Alma, I’m so glad I got to meet you.”
Alma nodded. “Oh, me, too, dear. You come see me again, will you?”
Angela took the wrinkled hand in her own. The loneliness in the old woman’s eyes pierced her heart. “Of course I will.” Who would have imagined Angela Fisher making a promise like that to an old lady? Yet she vowed to carry through on the promise.
Eileen rose and embraced Angela. Cupping her face in her sturdy hands, she whispered, “Now you take good care. I’ll be praying for you.”
Tears flooded Angela’s eyes. Aunt Eileen must be thinking the same thing she had earlier—how fortunate it was that she had escaped with little more than a one-year sentence of community service for her drug ab
use. Poor Kent served a lifetime sentence….
“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “I’ll take those prayers.”
As she headed for her car, her thoughts drifted to one of the apartments where Ben sat eating pizza with his cousin. How sad. How very sad … She reached into her purse for her keys, and her fingers brushed against something sharp. She withdrew the item—a small, folded square of paper.
A chill struck. She knew what it was. A phone number. For Gary. Dropping her purse, she tore the paper into bits of confetti and scattered them in the gutter. She didn’t need that number. She didn’t want that number.
But what frightened her was the desire that welled up when she’d remembered what calling that number could gain.
She clenched her fists and vowed aloud, “I’m not doing that anymore!” She snatched up her purse from its spot on the ground at her feet, slammed herself into her car, and zoomed for home as if demons were chasing her.
Ben pushed a napkin into Kent’s fist and teased, “Use that thing, man. You’re making a mess.”
Kent threw back his head and laughed. He raised the napkin to his face and swished it back and forth in a jerky, awkward movement. When he dropped his hand to his lap, the pepperoni grease had been cleared from his lips and mustache. A bit still shone in the chin whiskers of his beard, but Ben knew he’d get it cleaned up in his shower.
“Good stuff, huh?” Ben asked as he took another bite.
“Ye–es, good …” Kent’s face contorted as he formed the words. He patted his stomach. “Full.”
Again, Ben resorted to teasing, a throwback to their junior high days when zinging one another was a sign of affection. “No kidding! You ate three-fourths of that thing by yourself.”
Kent’s laughter lifted Ben’s heart. As boys, growing up, they’d been more like brothers than cousins. They’d played on the same Little League team, been members of the same scout troop, and rarely spent a Friday night without a sleepover. They’d had pillow fights and arguments over girls and quizzed each other for spelling tests. Best friends—inseparable. Until the accident that claimed both of their fathers’ lives. After that, things had changed.
Promising Angela Page 2
