The conversation slipped to other topics, for which Charlotte was thankful. But as they talked, Charlotte glanced at Pete and thought of her conversation with Dana.
When Bob was done with devotions, Charlotte made a sudden decision. “Emily, Christopher, you don’t have to help with dishes tonight.”
This scored her a huge cheer and a quick retreat by both parties.
“Pete, I’d like you to help me.”
“What?” Pete pulled his head back, frowning. “Since when do I help with dishes? I did chores. And I didn’t set off any stink bombs.”
And didn’t he sound exactly like a petulant teen?
“I want to talk to you.”
Sam gave Pete a knowing look. “Guess you’re in trouble too.”
“You watch your mouth, mister. I can still take you.”
But to her surprise, Pete didn’t offer any more protests.
“Hey, Christopher,” Sam said, “why don’t you let me show you how to load those videos you took of Pete and the horses.”
“I was going to help him do that,” Pete protested.
“But you have to do the dishes,” Sam said with a grin. “C’mon, Chris. Let’s hope Uncle Pete got the right cords to hook the video camera to the computer,” he said as they headed to the computer.
Charlotte said nothing as she and Pete cleared the table. While she put the food away, Pete emptied the dishwasher. Her disruption of the chore list had been frequent the past few days. But she knew, if ever there was a place where conversation could flow, it was in the kitchen while busy with mundane tasks.
“So, what did you want to lecture me about this time?” Pete asked, rinsing the dishes.
How like her son to get directly to the point.
“No lecture. But I do have some questions for you.”
“So, a lecture.”
Charlotte ignored his comment and decided to follow her son’s example. No hesitating, no coming at the topic sideways.
“I was talking to Dana at school this afternoon.”
Pete set a dish in the dishwasher, placing it with extra care.
“She was asking about you.”
This got his attention. “What did she want?”
“She was wondering how you were doing.”
Pete grabbed another plate and sighed. “I wish I knew what she wanted.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sam said the same thing the other day. When we were feeding the cows. That she was asking about me.”
“So that’s good.”
“Yeah. Well. Why doesn’t she ask me herself?”
“And how is that supposed to happen?”
“Well, I was in church the other Sunday, but obviously that wasn’t good enough for her. She wouldn’t talk to me afterward.”
Charlotte stared at him. How dense was her son? “You sat with Miss Grienke. What was Dana supposed to think?”
Pete shrugged, his sheepish look giving Charlotte some hope for her son’s intelligence. “I was going to sit by Dana, but … well … after our fight, I didn’t think she wanted me to sit with her. Not right away. Then Lisa waved at me to come sit with her and what else was I supposed to do?”
Charlotte caught the helpless note in her son’s voice and had to smile. Men could be so tough and independent, but they could also be clueless when it came to understanding women.
She handed him another plate, trying to figure out how to formulate where she really wanted to go.
“You said something about a fight. With Dana.”
“Yeah. Just a few weeks ago.”
“Can I ask what it was about?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t say anything more and Charlotte repressed another sigh over her son’s constant antics. “Okay. I’ll play. What was your fight with Dana about?”
Pete dropped another plate onto a rack, his lips a narrow line. Charlotte wondered if he was going to answer. “Church. Stuff,” he said finally.
“What do you mean, church?”
Pete dropped the glass on the rack with little regard for its fragility. “She wants me to come to church more often. Said I needed to take faith seriously. I mean, c’mon. Just ’cause you guys go, doesn’t mean I should. It’s hypocritical.”
He sounded angry. And bitter.
“Besides, I don’t—don’t—” He didn’t finish the sentence and Charlotte saw him swallow.
“What are you trying to say, Pete?” Charlotte kept her voice low, nonthreatening.
Pete grabbed another glass, then released his breath on a long sigh. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”
“Yes. I do.” She felt a new tension in the air at his admission. “Nothing you can say will shock me.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but he needed to know she was giving him space to speak the words that he seemed to hold so close.
“I don’t trust God.” Pete kept his gaze focused on the dishes he was loading. “And I’m surprised you do.” He paused there, as if testing this declaration, as if waiting for her to protest or show her shock.
But she kept quiet.
“I mean, he’s supposed to be this great and caring God, this loving God, but he let my sister, your daughter, die in some stupid car accident.” The next cup was dropped beside the first.
And Charlotte finally understood. It had taken Pete this long to process the death of his sister. This long for him to grieve.
Why hadn’t she seen it?
Because she’d been busy with her grandchildren. Busy with getting them settled into their new life without regard for what was happening in Pete’s. It wasn’t an excuse, it was reality.
But her son was hurting and she wondered for how long.
“Ever since Christmas it’s been bugging me,” he continued, answering her unspoken question. “You know. Family time. Everyone around the Christmas tree. The kids missed their mom, and it bothered me. And I’ve been angry since then and I know God doesn’t appreciate anger.”
In the sideways glance he shot her, she caught a hint of the pain in his voice.
Charlotte slowly rinsed another cup and as she did, she prayed.
Give me wisdom, Lord. Give me compassion. Help to heal my hurting son.
“When Denise first died, Pastor Evans came to visit, remember?”
“Yeah, and I remember thinking he was wasting his time then.”
And Charlotte remembered that her son was rude to him, but she let that slide. “He said something that has stayed with me,” she continued, rinsing another glass with slow, deliberate movements as she talked. “About how we are allowed to ask questions of God because He is our Father. He welcomes our questions and our concerns. Because it means we are talking to Him. That we are engaged with Him.”
“I remember him saying something about God being called Father, which sounded kind of silly at the time.”
“And now?” Charlotte prompted.
Pete shrugged. “I don’t know what to think about God. I’m still mad at Him for taking Denise away. I don’t have the same faith Dana does. I don’t feel the same way about church and God that she does. At first I thought she wanted me to go to church just to make things look good, for show. But I think, maybe, I was wrong.”
Charlotte’s thoughts ticked back to a conversation she’d had with Pete in his apartment. “You said something then about how I was too concerned about what people thought.”
Pete shot her a sheepish look. “Sorry. I was still mad at Dana then.”
“But you know, I think you were right. When I think of how I reacted when Emily put makeup on the girls and how I was trying so hard to make sure that Madison and Jennifer did all their work just so Anna wouldn’t be upset …” Charlotte paused. “I think, to a point, that you were right. I was too caught up in what people thought. And when you started dating Miss Grienke, I fell into the same trap.”
“She’s not a bad person, Ma,” Pete said. “She’s taking care of her brother, and it hasn
’t been easy for her. Especially with everyone talking like he’s the one whose been causing all the trouble around school.”
“I think she should be admired for taking care of her brother. And I don’t think she’s a bad person,” Charlotte said, feeling a tug of remorse that she had, at one time, judged Lisa a bit harshly. “I just don’t think she’s the person for you.”
“She went to church.”
Charlotte didn’t mention that she hadn’t seen her there previous to her involvement with her son. “That’s right, but for what reason?”
Pete shrugged. “I think she was hoping to see me, and I only went to church ’cause I was hoping to see Dana, so in a way, I’m exactly the same she was.”
And Pete was right.
“So, now what?”
Pete sighed. “I dunno.”
“I think if you were to phone Dana, talk to her, she might be willing to listen.”
“Could do that.” He sounded nonchalant, but Charlotte caught the hint of a smile in the curve of his mouth.
“I think she’s willing to give you a chance.”
“It’s going to be awkward,” Pete said. “Especially with Lisa and all.”
“If you explain the circumstances, she might be more understanding than you think. And, whether you believe it or not, so is God.”
Silence drifted between them and Charlotte knew enough not to try to fill it. But as they worked, she prayed.
When they were done, Pete went into the family room to see what Sam and Christopher were doing. He stood behind Christopher, who was parked at the computer. “Hey, that looks pretty cool. Mom, you should come and see what Sam and Christopher did.”
Charlotte wiped her hands and walked past her still snoozing husband, momentarily jealous of his ability to sleep through anything, and joined her son and grandsons at the computer.
“This is the video I want to show at school. It needs a little work still, but this is the basic idea.”
As Charlotte watched, Christopher’s face came on the screen. He was sitting in his bedroom, talking about horses and their history.
“I was going to write this down but thought I would read it instead.”
“When did you do this?” Charlotte asked.
“Sam and Emily helped me Sunday night.”
The picture faded out and a shot of Stormy running across the field in slow motion appeared as if out of a haze. Music accompanied the video and then faded out as the scenes that she had witnessed came up. Pete explained what he was doing and demonstrated some of the techniques he used. Then the picture faded out again and Christopher was talking.
“We have to add some end credits and an introduction. And we have to make some of the stuff smoother,” Sam added.
“This is very impressive, Christopher!” Charlotte said, feeling a burst of pride. “This will be a wonderful project.”
Christopher smiled at Sam and Pete. “I had good help,” he said.
Sam ruffled his brother’s short hair. “It was your idea.”
“And my video camera,” Pete put in.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Christopher flashed him an extra-wide smile, then turned back to the computer again.
And for now, all was well in the Stevenson household, Charlotte thought.
Chapter Twenty-One
So, Slater, things been pretty quiet this week, eh?” Jake said as he dropped into the desk beside Sam. “Thankfully.” Yesterday had been quiet in the school. Now it was Wednesday and still nothing had happened.
“Does Duncan still believe you set off the bomb?”
“Yeah, of course.” Sam tried not to sound mad, but it was hard. Most everyone in the school knew it was Adam who had set it up. He’d been the one behind all the other stuff happening. Why didn’t Principal Duncan see it?
Paul sauntered into the room, stopped between Jake and Sam’s desk, and struck a dramatic pose. “Another day in the education machine where they keep grinding us out like sausages.” Paul grinned down at Sam. “You doin’ okay, Slater?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Good. Great. Fantastic. Because we are going to have so much fun this weekend.”
And what was he supposed to tell them?
After he came back from the weekend with Jake and Paul, his grandparents had been pretty cool about him not going to church. But after the stink-bomb incident on Monday, Grandpa sat down and told him that he wasn’t allowed to go snowboarding with Jake and Paul this weekend.
It wasn’t fair and he told Grandpa so. He even tried to appeal to Grandma, but she couldn’t get Grandpa to budge either.
Right now, his life officially was in the pits. He leaned back in his desk, his anger at his grandparents growing by the minute. But he couldn’t tell Jake or Paul that he couldn’t come. Not yet.
Their teacher came in the class and dropped his books on the desk. He glanced at the clock just as the buzzer sounded, signaling the beginning of the class.
Just as the last annoying notes faded away, the heart-stopping clanging of the fire bell sent Sam’s heart jumping in his chest.
His first thought was that no one could pin this on him. He was right here. With witnesses.
His second was to look around the room for Adam. His desk was empty.
“This is getting to be a drag.” Jake heaved himself out of his desk. “This had better be the real deal.”
“Okay, everyone. Calmly, quietly, file out of the class.” The teacher sounded a bit bored as if he too thought it simply another false alarm.
Sam got up, wondering what made a kid want to create so many problems.
But as they filed out into the hallway, he caught the distinctive, acrid smell of something burning.
“Fire!” yelled someone, and order and calm fled like snowflakes in a wind.
“Stay calm, stay calm,” he heard above the sudden screams of girls. “Move in an orderly fashion to the exits. Stay calm.”
Easy to say, but hard to do when smoke was following you down the hall.
“Hey guys, this is it,” Jake said with a gleam in his eyes. “A real fire.”
They hustled outside and Sam was glad he’d worn his hoodie and his sweater today. A chill wind whistled across the school ground, snatching any bit of warmth from unprotected bodies.
He looked around, checking the other students to see if Emily and Ashley had made it out of the school, his heart suddenly flipping over in his chest.
Christopher was in the building across the street so he was okay, but where was Emily?
Then he caught a flash of a funky-colored top and some weird-looking pants and his heart slowed. For the first time in a long time he was thankful for Emily’s strange clothing. Not too hard to pick her out from a crowd.
“I’m stoked,” Paul said, his gaze intent on the school building, as if expecting to see smoke at any minute. “This is so cool.”
“More than cool. How about freezing?” Jake said, rubbing his arms against the cold. He’d worn only a short-sleeved shirt today, which made Sam wonder, yet again, how tough these guys really were.
Sam grabbed the bottom of his blue hoodie and pulled it off. Then he handed it to Jake. “Here. Wear this.”
“But you’ll get cold.”
Sam shook his head. “My sweater is really warm.”
Jake was about to protest again when Sam shoved the hoodie into his hands.
“Just put it on, Jake. Save your gratitude for later.”
Jake held his gaze a moment. “Thanks, man,” he said, pulling on the hoodie. “You’re a pal.”
Pal. High praise coming from Jake.
“Here comes the cavalry,” Paul said.
The town fire trucks, sirens screaming, horns blaring, pulled up in front of the school. Two guys jumped off the back, pulling up the suspenders of their pants. They grabbed their coats and buckled them on.
“Okay. Officially cool,” Paul said as they watched the crew jump into action.
But Sam was distracted by the sig
ht of his uncle pulling up across the street.
Pete got out of his truck, and when he saw Sam he came running over.
“Hey. Sam. Is everyone out of the school?”
Sam frowned at his uncle. “What are you doing here?”
Pete hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I—uh—needed to talk to someone. But it looks like … everyone is busy. Is Emily okay?”
Sam nodded and pointed to his sister, who was chattering with a group of girls. “She’s over there.”
Pete looked over the assembled gathering of shivering kids, then frowned. “Where’s Miss Simons?”
“She should be with her class.” Sam glanced around, mentally taking stock of the teachers. No Miss Simons to be seen. “I don’t see her.”
“Is she still in the building?” Uncle Pete’s voice raised a notch.
Sam shrugged. “I dunno.”
Uncle Pete grabbed Sam by the shoulders. “What do you mean, you don’t know? She’s got to be somewhere.”
“If she’s not here, then sorry, Uncle Pete. I don’t know.” Sam hardly recognized his uncle. He looked a bit spooky, which got Sam scared too. What if Miss Simons was still in the building? How bad was the fire?
Pete let him go, gave one more look around the grounds, then he ran over to the fire truck. Sam followed, wondering what his Uncle Pete hoped to do.
“What do you mean I can’t go in there?” Sam heard as he edged closer. “I need to see if someone is still there.”
“That’s being taken care of, Pete,” the fire chief was saying, his attention on the building. “You absolutely can’t go inside. We don’t know the extent of the blaze.”
“But I think my girlfriend is inside.”
“Girlfriend?” The question popped out before Sam even realized he had spoken aloud.
Pete swung his head toward Sam. “Well. Yeah. I guess.”
Principal Duncan joined them. “We have three people missing. One teacher and two students.”
“Is one of them Dana?” Pete asked.
“I can’t divulge that information at this time.”
“I don’t see her here so she must be the teacher.”
An Abundance of Blessings Page 18
