The Prodigal's Return

by Anna DeStefano

  “As soon as you decided you couldn’t follow the dictates any qualified youth leader would.” Catherine shook off her husband’s restraining hand and pointed to Traci’s parents, who were sitting to her right. “These parents should have been informed immediately of their daughter’s reckless behavior. Instead, they were kept in the dark until their child decided to move out of their home—and in with our good reverend’s family. And I hear she’s spent today over at the Cain place, with that crazy old man.”

  “Sit down, Catherine!” Mr. Compton tugged her back to her seat.

  Everyone in the room looked to where Jenn was still standing.

  She stepped into the aisle between the rows of folding chairs and walked toward the front of the room. Metal chairs screeched as legs and bodies shifted to allow her to pass. A council meeting hadn’t garnered this much interest since…well, since the last time her father’s job had been on the line.

  Shaking, she faced the council, gifted her father with a silent I love you along with a look she hoped he’d take as an apology, and turned to face her community.

  “If this meeting were simply to discuss Traci Carpenter’s situation, I wouldn’t be here without an invitation, particularly since I haven’t attended church here regularly since I was a teenager. But Mrs. Compton was gracious enough to speak with me at the school today, about the council discussing disciplinary action against Reverend Gardner. And I couldn’t let that happen without setting the record straight.”

  She’d made her choices, wise or not. And she’d do exactly the same thing for any other child who needed her help. But her father had paid enough for her decisions. She scanned the sea of concerned faces before her, determination overtaking her anxiety. If she wasn’t strong enough to stand before this town and own up to what she thought was right, what had the last eight years been about?

  “The only thing Reverend Gardner is guilty of,” she said in a firm voice she refused to let shake like the jelly her knees had become, “is putting other people’s well-being before his concern for his job.”

  The truth in the statement settled on her like a bulletproof vest. Her father had chosen her this time. He’d put what she thought was best first. Quietly, with no fanfare and knowing full well that it would cause him enormous headaches, he’d taken a stand firmly in the chaos of Jenn’s world.

  Standing there, as the church council chatted quietly behind her, she felt less alone than she had in eight long years.

  “He’s allowed you to take advantage of your role as youth leader,” Betty Carpenter said from her seat beside Mrs. Compton. Traci’s mom turned disappointed eyes to Jenn’s father. “Joshua, you let her keep working with the kids, knowing she was teaching them Lord knows what every Saturday. Certainly not what we as parents were trying to teach at home. Sneaking around. Lying. Premarital sex. Ab-abortion. My child wouldn’t have considered doing any of those things if—”

  “I’ve been doing those things for almost a year, Mom,” a quiet voice said from the back of the room, where Traci Carpenter stood with a determined expression on her face. “And if Jenn hadn’t listened to me a few day ago, instead of lecturing me, I’d probably still be doing them.”

  “Sit down, young lady,” Bob Carpenter said as both he and his wife shot to their feet. “This meeting isn’t about you. It’s—”

  “If it’s not about Traci, then what are we all doing here?” Jenn’s father asked, speaking for the first time since the meeting convened.

  The quiet rumbling of whispers that had been a constant background for the proceedings blossomed into ten conversations at once. Several prominent members of the community stood, as if height alone would give stronger voice to their opinions, either in support of or against what had been said.

  “Everyone, please—” Mr. Hastings said over the melee. He was the head of the deacons and in charge of tonight’s meeting. “Please, take your seats. And let’s try and limit our comments to those who are called on by the council, or we’ll never get out of here tonight.”

  When a veneer of order had returned, he focused his tired blue eyes on Traci. “Miss Carpenter, I think the reverend is right. Your insight into this matter is important. If you have something to share, we’d be happy to hear it.”

  Jenn wanted to cheer as the girl bravely walked through the room full of people who’d known her since she was in diapers. She seemed stronger, somehow. More confident. Less afraid by the minute of the mistakes she’d made and the decisions she still hadn’t. An amazing change, even if Jenn didn’t completely understand where it had come from so suddenly.

  Her smile faltered as a shadow in the hallway caught her eye—a shadow very much the size of Nathan Cain, who’d promised not to allow Traci out of his sight while Jenn was gone. Please, don’t let the man choose now to make a scene in front of the town he’d thumbed his nose at for so long.

  Traci glanced at the council members, the direction of her gaze settling on Jenn’s father. Then she turned to look at her own parents.

  “Stop being mad at Reverend Gardner, Mom. He’s not the reason I lied to you and Dad.” Jenn could tell the exact moment Traci spotted Brett Hamilton sitting in front of her parents. The girl’s shoulders rose and fell, as if she were trying very hard not to cry. “He’s not the reason I lied to everybody. Neither is Jenn—Ms. Gardner. She told me from the start I should tell you and Dad everything. She’s the reason I finally decided to come clean…and to keep my baby….” She halted, as if the decision had just come to her as she said it. “To keep going to school, even though everybody knows by now, and they can’t wait to talk about me. I’m going back tomorrow, Mom. I don’t care how bad I feel.”

  Jenn curled her arms around the teenager and hoped against hope that her parents were listening. That everyone else would keep silent long enough for the words to sink in.

  Who could have known that facing her parents in public would be easier for Traci than the face-to-face meeting Jenn had been lobbying for from the start.

  “She’s been busy today, even though she wasn’t at school,” Jenn offered when it seemed Traci had run out of words. “She was helping out at Nathan’s. The man’s very ill, and his house is in terrible shape.” She let the reality of that sink in, daring anyone who happened to make eye contact not to feel guilty for the suffering being lived in their midst, with not a nod of concern from any of them. “She cooked him dinner tonight, and she’ll be helping out more over the next few days. If he were a bad influence, I wouldn’t let him spend time with my own child. And he’s watching Mandy now, isn’t he?”

  Traci nodded.

  “Thanks…thanks to Ms. Gardner,” the teenager said to her parents, as if the rest of the spectators had faded away, “I’m finally starting to realize—”

  “What you should be realizing, is that it’s time to come home,” Traci’s father insisted. “This is ridiculous. Your place is with your family, not doing whatever you’re doing with strangers.”

  “I’ve known Traci her entire life, Bob,” Jenn’s father reminded the man. “I’m hardly a stranger. And I’m hardly unaware that the best place for her is at home, with her parents supporting her.” He waited for Jenn to look his way. “But that’s not always what families do. I am all too familiar with that reality as well.”

  “Joshua,” Mr. Hastings said. “You’re not actually—”

  “I’m doing what I should have done eight years ago, but my wife and I were too afraid back then, and maybe too blind. I’m trusting my daughter. Jenn’s helping a child no one else seems to be able to reach, and I support her one hundred percent. I’m fully willing to accept this council’s decision—”

  “My father’s not the issue here,” Jenn interrupted through a rush of tears. It was impossible not to remember another time, another public forum, when she’d been desperate for his support but so sure she’d never have it again. “I’m the one who took over the teen group, despite his warnings. The meetings have been successful up until now, but�
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  “We’re very aware of your track record with this church’s youth, Ms. Gardner.” Mr. Hastings peered at her over the rim of his reading glasses. “But you must be aware that no one in this room is overly impressed now, given the current circumstances.”

  More half whispers surrounded them, like they had in that courtroom so long ago. Jenn made eye contact with as many people as she could, including Traci’s parents and, unfortunately, Jeremy Compton.

  People she was done cowering in front of.

  Catherine Compton stood again, her manner more composed as she addressed Jenn directly.

  “You’re a horrible role model for the youth entrusted in your care. Your father could have stopped this months ago. Failing to tell parents when their children are taking part in inappropriate behavior is inexcusable. Taking the youth group out for burgers and heaven knows what else when you were supposed to be working with them at the church—”

  “It was more than just going out for burgers,” Brett Hamilton said from where he sat beside his father.

  “Brett—” Jenn smiled her thanks, shaking her head at the same time. She could hear Traci catch her breath beside her. Brett’s defense of the youth group’s activities, considering he had every right to feel burned right along with Traci’s parents, was as dear as it was unexpected. “You don’t have to—”

  “The youth outings are great.” He stood, ignoring his father’s disapproving frown. “Kids have been coming from all over the county.”

  “Brett!” Sheriff Hamilton, the man who’d handcuffed Neal and taken him off to jail, pulled his son back to his chair. “That’s enough, son.”

  “I would have to agree.” Mr. Hastings stopped fiddling with his pencil and sat forward. “I think I can speak for the council when I say we’re appreciative to everyone, Brett and Traci included, for their insight into everything that’s transpired. But this meeting was called to review Reverend Gardner’s role in this situation, so let’s stick to that, please.”

  “There’s nothing to review.” Jenn’s dad’s tone was equally calm and reasonable. “I’ve seen Jenn act responsibly, in my opinion, with regard to her position in this church. When it became clear her interests were in conflict with our views, she removed herself rather than causing strife within the congregation.” He gave Jenn a nod, then his glance fell on Traci. “I’ve also seen her stand beside a scared young girl and refuse to let her leave town before she took the time to think long and hard about the consequences of what she was doing. And that same young girl is here tonight, standing up for Jenn. Even Nathan Cain is turning around under my daughter’s care, if he welcomed Traci out at his place today just to take some of the heat off of me. How can I not support results like that?”

  The room began to buzz again. Or was the static only in Jenn’s ears? She gripped the edge of the conference table. Her dad, in his own quiet way, had just sided with her in front of God and everybody.

  “You may be inclined to indulge your daughter,” Catherine Compton said, “but that doesn’t mean the rest of us have to. She’s enabling that child’s poor choices, despite the Carpenters’ express requests to the contrary. And Traci and her own child’s daily exposure to the town drunk isn’t exactly cause for celebration.”

  “Don’t lump everyone into one pot.” Albert Perry stood at Jenn’s right. He was a deacon and the owner of the local hardware store where Nathan Cain had once spent a small fortune on the home-improvement supplies needed to keep up his enormous home. “I, for one, think what she’s doing with old Mr. Cain is just fine. I say we should be thinking about helping the woman, not punishing her father for the good she’s done.”

  “She’s teaching my child to disregard my wife’s and my wishes.” Bob Carpenter looked from Mr. Perry to Jenn’s father. “And by allowing her to do it under your roof, you’re as good as supporting the entire thing, Joshua.”

  “Stop talking around me, Dad.” Traci stepped directly in front of her parents. “Try talking to me for a change.”

  “Come home, sweetie,” Betty Carpenter reasoned. “Come home, and we’ll talk about all of it. Let your father and me help you decide what’s best.”

  Traci shook her head, standing straight and tall. But Jenn could see the tremor in her arms as she crossed them.

  “That’s exactly what my parents thought eight years ago, Mrs. Carpenter.” She glanced another apology toward her father. “My parents tried to help me make decisions about my pregnancy. They did everything but listen to me. When I left, they waited for me to come to my senses and come back home. But that never happened. It often doesn’t with pregnant teens on the run.”

  “And you’re going to do nothing about this?” Catherine Compton demanded of Jenn’s father.

  “These aren’t my decisions to make, I’m afraid,” he said.

  “Joshua, if you continue to support this behavior,” Mr. Hastings said, “this council will have no choice but to—”

  “Why doesn’t the girl just stay at my father’s house?” a voice boomed from the back of the conference room.

  Everyone in attendance turned to find Neal Cain looming in the doorway. He stared angrily at Jenn, then with dawning shock at the room full of people now gaping at him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to Jenn, who’d raised a hand to cover her gasp at having him appear as if out of nowhere to defend her. “I…I’m sorry.”

  Then before another word could be spoken, he turned and left.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE ROOM ERUPTED in confusion at the spectacle of the town’s blackest sheep making an unexpected appearance.

  Jenn gave Traci’s shoulder a quick squeeze, nudged the girl in the general direction of her parents, spotted Jeremy Compton headed her way with a less than friendly expression on his face, then she began pushing the other way through the milling crowd. Ignoring Hastings’s demand for order, stumbling past chairs and people, she forced her way to the door and out into the hallway’s dimness. She caught a glimpse of Neal as he slipped through the glass doors that led to the parking lot.

  “Jenn?” Her father’s hand fell on her elbow. “Did you tell Neal about the council meeting?”

  “No. Of course not. I haven’t spoken to him since last night.”

  “Yet, here he is, riding to your rescue.” Her father’s concern turned into a shocked kind of smile. A smile that on any other father might have been a precursor to parental meddling.

  “What? Dad—” But puzzling out what was going through his mind was interrupted by the meeting overflowing into the hall, more than one person motioning for her father’s attention.

  Jenn left him to his church politics and headed after Neal.

  What was he doing here? And more to the point, why was it impossible for her not to follow him outside?

  Yesterday she’d talked herself into being grateful for the closure they’d found. But after that display in the conference room—

  Exiting through the same outer doors as he had, she turned the corner of the building and stopped short. His vintage Mustang was double-parked at the curb. Neal stood beside it, his back against the driver’s door, hands in the pockets of jeans that looked just as amazing on him as his suit had.

  He was like a living dream. The white knight her dad had joked about inside, standing right there in the shadow of the church that hadn’t comforted either of them for years. Even in his jeans and sweater, he looked civilized. Successful. Tamed. But with his strong shoulders bunched as he stared up at the steeple, he was also every bit the angry young man people in Rivermist remembered.

  He shook his head as she approached. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me back there. I came to talk to you, then everyone was on your case, and—”

  “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, of course, but she couldn’t let him apologize for standing up for her.

  He sneered. “Nothing’s changed around here, has it? The town’s out for blood, and they know just where to find the kind they like. What
are you doing here, Jenn, putting yourself out there for them to take potshots at?”

  “I’m trying to help a young girl and my father.” What was she doing here? “Because Traci’s pregnant, and because—”

  “Because no one was there to help you when you needed it?” Responsibility clouded his features, the same as last night. “Because you know exactly how she feels?”

  “Not exactly.” But he’d hit the mark close enough. It scared her how close.

  “Is that really Bob Carpenter’s daughter?” At her nod, his humorless chuckle rumbled. “Bob Carpenter’s daughter is knocked up and living with you at Reverend Gardner’s. And just to add variety to your problems, she spent the day hanging with my outcast of a father. Something tells me I’m not in Kansas anymore.”

  “Nathan didn’t have to agree to help.”

  “Between you and the girl, the man’s collecting people the way he used to collect cars.”

  People, but not his own son.

  Jenn glanced from Neal to his Mustang—Nathan’s favorite vintage model, if memory served. The two of them had been restoring one similar to it together, so Neal could take it to college. They were going to spend Neal’s junior and senior year remodeling the hunk of rust they’d brought home from that junkyard….

  “I…I think he’s missed you.” Neal’s get real glare made it impossible for her not to continue, even though this wasn’t her fight and everyone would be better off if she butted out. “If you don’t believe me, you should take a look in your dad’s garage. Or go see your room—”

  “My room?”

  “He’s kept all your things there, exactly the way you left them.” She hadn’t been able to stop herself from peeking into Neal’s room while cleaning the upstairs hallway that morning. And she’d never forget the shock of what she’d found inside. Or the moment she’d fully understood the depth of Nathan’s pain, and what he’d sacrificed when he turned Neal away yesterday. “Everything’s covered in dust now, but he hasn’t parted with one bit of it.”