by Jill Kemerer
“Awesome!”
“Okay, let’s plan on seven. See you kids then.” Mom took Dad’s arm. They waved and headed to the parking lot. Her parents had always gone out of their way to include people, to help others. What would they do in her situation with Treyvon?
If she had to guess, she’d say they would offer an invitation. Like the one they’d just offered to Drew and Wyatt.
Drew raised his eyebrows. “Big plans this afternoon? Wyatt and I are taking the boat out to go fishing. You’re welcome to join us.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Sorry. Maybe next time. I have something I need to do.”
No sense in wasting time. She was writing Treyvon a letter. Today.
She just wanted the kid to know he wasn’t alone. He had someone who cared about him. After that, well, it was up to God to work on Treyvon’s heart.
* * *
“He hasn’t stopped poring over those books you got him the other day.” Drew gathered the ketchup and mustard and followed Lauren through the sliding door into her parents’ house Wednesday night. They’d eaten cheeseburgers and pasta salad on the deck, and Wyatt and Bill were carrying the telescope to a clear area on the lawn. Bill claimed it was the best spot to see the stars. Lauren’s mom had gone upstairs to put a load of laundry in the dryer, leaving Drew and Lauren alone to clean up. He didn’t mind.
His thoughts about Chase had been troubling him lately. Part of him wanted to discuss them with Lauren, but the other part wasn’t so sure.
“Wyatt? Poring over a book?” Juggling the pasta salad and an empty platter in her hands, she glanced back over her shoulder and grinned. “Better take a picture of that.”
“Already did.” He opened the refrigerator and found room on the shelves for the condiments. Lauren turned on the faucet and squirted dish soap in the sink. The window poured light on her features. Beautiful. He leaned against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other, and watched her slide plates into the soapy water.
“Well, his interest in the solar system has taken his mind off photographers.” Lauren washed and rinsed the dishes and set them on the dish rack. Drew crossed over to help.
“I didn’t tell him, but one of the guys at work said his sister—she works at Quick Cuts—was trimming a guy’s hair, and he asked about Chase McGill and if it was true his son lived here. She didn’t reveal anything to the guy, but she wanted me to know.”
Lauren rinsed another dish, her bouncy demeanor sober. “I don’t understand people like that. Doesn’t he see what he’s doing?”
“Those reporters consider celebrities fair game.” Drew took the dish from her hand, their fingers touching.
“Fine. Celebrities choose their career. But their kids?” With her lips drawn together, she shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“I know. Eventually they’ll realize there’s no story here and leave him alone.”
“They’d better.”
“And we’ll do everything we can to make them feel unwelcome if they do show up.” Drew dried the silverware. For the past week, his coworkers had treated him like one of them. They’d been concerned about Wyatt, and they’d gone out of their way to help him protect the kid. What a change from when he’d started. “In the meantime, I was hoping Wyatt’s interest in the solar system would have gotten him off this football obsession, but it hasn’t.”
Lauren finished the few dishes and wiped the counter. “I take it Wyatt hasn’t given up on his football dreams?”
“No. He keeps bringing it up. Whining about it. Getting mad. I don’t know what to do.”
She folded the dishcloth over the sink. “Come on—let’s talk out on the deck.”
They went back outside and sat on lawn chairs. In the distance Wyatt bent to adjust the telescope and Bill crouched next to him. The green lawn spread out for almost an acre before disappearing into a tree line. What a perfect summer night. Not too hot. No mosquitoes. The sun still shining for another hour at least.
“So what did you mean about not knowing what to do? I thought you were respecting Chase’s wishes.” Lauren extended her legs on the chair.
Drew mimicked her, stretching his legs out on the cushion. Before moving to Lake Endwell, he’d followed Chase’s instructions to the letter. But something about the move had changed him—was still changing him—and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“I was. I am.” He rubbed his hand over his cheek. “But lately I’ve been thinking Chase is wrong. I get he thinks he’s protecting him, but shouldn’t Wyatt have some say in his life?”
And shouldn’t I?
“Do you think football will be good for him?” Lauren asked.
“I don’t know. But good or bad, we learn from experience. He’s just going to resent me and nurture some unrealistic fantasy about football if I don’t let him try it.”
“So you’re worried about him resenting you?”
That’s why he liked talking to her. She figured out the heart of what he was saying before he even did.
“Kind of.”
“He probably will at times no matter what you do. You’re his parent now. Kids don’t like being disciplined.” She smiled. “He’ll appreciate it when he’s older.”
“And in the meantime he’ll hate me.”
Lauren swung her legs over and faced him. “This football thing. Is it about not wanting Wyatt mad at you or you wanting what’s best for him?”
He swatted a fly away from his shorts. He could handle Wyatt being mad at him. The kid hadn’t wanted to move here, and they’d worked through it. Homework? Same thing. This was different.
“I want what’s best for him.”
Lauren nodded. “I know you do.”
“I just don’t get why I can’t make some of these decisions. I’m the one raising him for the next several years. Shouldn’t I have some say?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Who was he to question Chase’s desires for Wyatt? It wasn’t as if Drew had kids or any parenting experience. And Chase was a great dad.
“Have you talked to Chase about it?”
“Yeah, and he’s as stubborn as Wyatt. I’m getting nowhere with either of them.”
“Puts you in a tough spot.”
It sure did. He didn’t like having people mad at him. Part of him had been trying to avoid disappointing anyone ever since his college fiasco.
“Technically you’re Wyatt’s guardian. You can override Chase about this.”
“But should I?”
“I don’t know. Will it kill Wyatt not to play football? Plenty of kids get through life fine without it.”
“And plenty of kids get through life fine with it.”
“Sounds like you’ve made your mind up.”
He sighed. “Not really.”
“Have you prayed about it?”
“No.” Why hadn’t he prayed about it? His prayers tended to revolve around keeping Wyatt safe and helping people he loved. He rarely prayed for himself.
Why didn’t he pray for himself?
Because I don’t deserve anything more than I already have.
Lauren’s mom slid the patio door open. “Lauren, Drew? Would you mind driving to the Bradley Farm and getting some firewood? I’ll have Bill start a bonfire later. Oh, and pick up graham crackers, marshmallows and Hershey’s bars. I’m hungry for s’mores.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Drew stood and offered his hand to Lauren. She placed her soft hand in his, and he hauled her to her feet. He caught his breath at her nearness. Tanned face, sun-kissed hair and pink lips—tempting. Too tempting.
Her eyes flickered from his eyes to his mouth, and her cheeks flushed.
Maybe she felt it, too. He stood taller, his pulse racing. How could he fight this attracti
on when she looked at him that way?
I don’t deserve—
Wait.
Why not?
Why didn’t he deserve her? Why was he so sure he was bad for her?
Because if he started believing he deserved her, he’d give his whole heart away. And if she didn’t want it, it would be worse than getting kicked out of college. And just like then, he’d have no one to blame but himself.
* * *
Lauren climbed out of Drew’s truck at the farm outside town. They’d enjoyed an easy silence driving here with the windows down. It had given her time to think. About Drew’s situation and how pleased she was he confided in her. She hadn’t told anyone about writing Treyvon. She wasn’t sure why. She’d considered telling her parents and Megan, but what if they thought it was a dumb move? Or said something she didn’t want to hear? But Drew...she could tell him. He never seemed to think less of her when she confessed her secrets. Would he now?
Her sandals flapped against the gravel drive, and Drew strolled by her side as they approached a stand full of logs. A small box with a padlock and a slot for cash was attached to the side.
“One bundle or two?” Drew stopped, legs wide, before the logs stacked into dividers. Each section was considered a bundle. His muscles strained under his faded navy T-shirt, and she let out a tiny sigh at all the male strength standing in front of her. How had Megan described him? Tall, built and studly. Yep. That about summed it up.
“Two.” She yanked a log out and carried it in both arms back to his truck.
“You don’t have to do that. I can carry them.” He jogged to catch up with her, motioning to take the log out of her arms.
“I’ve carried them a hundred times with my dad.” She kept moving until she reached the bed of the truck, dropping it in with a thunk. “It’s no big deal.”
He took her hand. Her heartbeat hammered. What was he doing? Gently, he flipped her hand over and trailed his finger up her forearm. She shivered.
“The wood scratched you.” His fingers lingered on the tender skin. And the look in his eyes? Her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. This was the second time in less than an hour she’d thought about kissing him.
Kissing him? No way. Not smart.
“It’s just a little mark. No big deal.” She dropped her arms by her side. Turning, she headed back to the stand. “Did I tell you I finally applied for the counselor position at the high school?”
“That’s great.” His smile grew. “You still thinking about being the cheerleading coach, too?”
“I sure am.” She hauled another log into her arms. He did the same. “I know I can handle being a cheer coach. And I’m feeling a little better about the counselor position. I talked with Megan about it and researched the job a bit. I know I’d be dealing with teenagers with emotional problems, but I’d also be interacting with a lot of teens who don’t have those problems. From what I can tell, I’d be helping upperclassmen with college decisions and adjusting students’ schedules. I think I can handle that.”
“I know you can handle it.” He hoisted three logs as easily as if they were rolled-up newspapers.
“Well, I still have to be interviewed. It’s not a sure thing.” She dropped her log in the back of the truck. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“Remember how I told you about the boys in Chicago?”
“How could I forget?” He stacked the wood in the truck bed, and they went back to the stand for another round.
“I’ve been thinking about Treyvon a lot.”
“You still mad at him?”
“No. I’m...well, I’m worried about him. I tried to put him out of my mind, but he kept coming back. I wrote him a letter.”
Drew grabbed three more logs but didn’t say anything.
“I got to thinking about a few years from now. What will happen to him? He’ll be out of juvenile detention, but where’s he going to go? Back to his mom? Back to the gang? His brother’s dead, his grandmother’s dead and he has nothing to fall back on.”
Drew’s jaw clenched. He took big strides to the truck. She fought to keep up with him. After he stacked the remaining logs, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “So what did you put in the letter?”
She brushed her hands on her shorts. “I apologized. For not getting him and Jay out of the house sooner. For not finding them a safe environment. I told him I blamed myself for failing him and Jay, and I told him about my childhood. I checked with the detention center. They won’t let him call me, but he can write. I sent writing supplies and stamps. Told him to write back if he wanted to.”
“That’s all?” They stood behind the truck. He cocked his head to the side.
“Isn’t it enough?”
“For a minute there I thought you were going to say you invited him to live with you when he gets out.”
She hadn’t thought about it. “And if I had?”
“I’d worry.” He stepped closer to her.
“Yeah?” Her pulse took off in a sprint.
“Because he might have gone into juvie a scared kid, but he could come out a hardened man.”
“I don’t know what will happen to him, but I want him to know I care. I hope he writes me.” She lowered her gaze to the ground.
Drew brushed the back of his hand down her hair. The touch startled her, and she stared into his eyes. Got lost in their rich brown depths.
He leaned in, his lips grazing hers. And she met him, pressing hers to his.
The kiss was the definition of Drew. Strong yet gentle. Confident and generous. All man. All Drew.
She put her palms against his chest, and without thought, slid them up around the back of his neck, getting closer to him, kissing him back. Instantly, his hands wrapped around her lower back, holding her tightly.
She was lost in a sea of sensation. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
They pulled away at the same time, remaining in each other’s arms.
“We shouldn’t—” Lauren turned her head to the side. Kissing him, standing in his embrace felt so good. But her head shouted, No, no, it’s all wrong! Protect yourself!
He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Complicates things too much.”
Her heart dropped to the gravel under her sandals. The words were right. So why did they sound so wrong? She was falling for him. And she had no idea how to make it stop.
* * *
Drew clutched a coffee mug and watched the sun rise over the lake the next morning. He stood on the dock in front of his cottage. Pink-and-purple clouds spread into blue. Steam wreathed above his mug, reminding him to enjoy his coffee while it was hot. Speaking of heat... What had possessed him to kiss Lauren yesterday? When she’d said they shouldn’t, he’d snapped back to reality. Of course they shouldn’t. They were in a complicated relationship, and Wyatt was at the center. What would it do to the kid if he and Lauren started dating only to break up? Wyatt needed stability. And Drew needed...
His mind flashed to her soft lips. How magnificent she felt in his arms. He’d wanted to keep her there forever. To hold. To protect. To love.
Love. He’d never really been in love. There were a few times in his past when he’d thought he’d been, but back then the only one he’d loved was himself.
Could he say the grown him was any different?
Yes.
Where had that yes come from?
He took a tentative drink of coffee. Hot but not scorching.
I’ve changed. Lauren had helped him see it. He could almost believe he was worthy of loving her.
Almost.
She’d surprised him yesterday when she’d talked about writing Treyvon. He’d
never thought about the kid’s future. It wouldn’t occur to him.
But caring was in her DNA.
He hoped the kid wouldn’t disappoint her.
God, please don’t let this kid be another negative in her life. Help her see her life matters. Show her she didn’t fail anyone. I’m not asking for me—
He frowned. Did he always end his prayers with “I’m not asking for me”?
Yes, his prayers usually had a stipulation he wasn’t praying for himself.
Okay, Lord, I am asking for me. What in the world do I do about Lauren? I care about her. A lot. It’s veering toward love, and I know that’s not wise. But what am I supposed to do? I’m drawn to her. I can tell her things I don’t tell anyone else. And I want to spend time with her. When we’re together, I feel right. Good. At peace.
He gazed out over the lake glistening under the rising sun. Calm. If he wanted to be at peace, he could feel it here. Without Lauren.
He didn’t want to mess up her life. She’d said they shouldn’t, and he had agreed. Better to preserve their friendship than to throw it away for a risky shot at more.
Chapter Ten
Where had Wyatt gone?
Lauren stretched her neck to see beyond the massive playground to the swings and tennis courts nearby. She and Drew had resumed their nonkissing relationship. They hadn’t been talking as much, either, but it was for the best. Had it only been a week since he kissed her? She’d never be able to buy firewood from that farm again without remembering his lips pressed against hers.
Principal Gilbert had called two days ago to set up a phone interview next week about the counseling position. Apparently the school had a process, starting with a phone interview. Lauren had also signed up for a cheerleading certification course. The certification manual had arrived, so while Wyatt had been running around the play structure with a pack of boys his age, she’d studied it to prepare for the timed exam.
But now it was getting late. She needed to find Wyatt and stop at the grocery store for a few dinner items. She ambled around the perimeter of the large park. Children of all ages laughed and chased one another across the wooden bridges and slides. But she didn’t see Wyatt or his friends.
