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“Perfect.” He made a sound into the receiver as if he’d snapped his fingers. “Then, I have just the job for you—chaperone for tonight’s teen lock-in.”
“Oh, I don’t really—”
“Please, before you say no, hear me out.”
She had no business even thinking about volunteering for something like this. Her focus needed to always be on Tessa. Still, it would be rude not to at least give the youth minister a chance to explain. “Go ahead.”
His words came out in a rush, blending excitement and desperation. “Well, you see, there’s this lock-in tonight. It will be about thirty kids, from seventh to twelfth grades. They play board games, have organized activities, listen to clean music, watch approved videos and eat junk food.”
She carried the phone into her bedroom, past the bed and dresser that were pressed so closely together she could barely open the drawers. When she reached her messy desk by the window, she sat and pushed through the pile of works in progress.
“Yes, I know what a lock-in is. We had them all the time in our youth group.”
“Well, the special thing about this particular lock-in is that it’s my first one as youth minister. I thought I had the whole thing under control, with four chaperones—myself included—lined up. Only, Char had a family emergency, and I haven’t been able to find a replacement.”
“How many people have you asked before me?”
“About a dozen.”
She smiled into the receiver. “Glad to hear I was your first choice. What did the first twelve say?”
“They pretty much wished me the best in finding someone who was…available.”
“Then, I’ll have to do the same, I think.”
“Are you saying you’re not available?”
She could feel the tightrope swaying beneath her toes. Could she decline carefully without lying? “I never said that. But I do have one small complication—a four-year-old one. I’m new here. I don’t have any regular baby-sitters for Tessa, even if I could get someone on such short notice.”
“I wonder what would have happened if Simon, Peter and Andrew had been too busy casting nets on the Sea of Galilee to follow Jesus so he could make them ‘fishers of men.”’
“That’s not quite fair.”
“I’m just kidding. If you’re willing to chaperone, you’re more than welcome to bring Tessa. She’ll be the hit of the party. And later we can put her to bed in my room.”
“I still don’t think—”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Hey, if you’re looking for baby-sitters, this is the place to be.”
An overnight party, filled to the walls with potential baby-sitters—what could be the harm in that? She shook her head and stared out the lace-curtained window, glancing down at the street lined with old elms and maples.
She wasn’t really considering this, was she? It would take no more than one hand to enumerate the things she knew about teenagers, and at least four of those things she’d learned while living through that misery herself.
“I just don’t think it would be the best idea—”
“Do you think I’d be calling you—a new attendee, not even a church member yet—if I weren’t desperate? I have all these kids coming and not enough adults to chaperone. If you say no, I guess I’d better cancel the whole thing.” He sighed. “Please, Serena. You’re my last resort.”
“Since you put it that way…”
“Thanks, Serena. You’re a lifesaver.”
As she hung up the phone, she couldn’t help wondering if she was also a daredevil. Being in close proximity to Andrew Westin was probably not in her best interest. But for some reason, she couldn’t resist.
Andrew opened the front door to the temporary Family Life Center and led Serena and Tessa into a huge, nearly empty room. Funny, he almost wished the space had a matched living room group and heavy draperies instead of mini-blinds on the windows and folding chairs stacked against the wall. “This is our main gathering place. We meet here on Sunday mornings for singing and prayer before Sunday School and again for youth group on Sunday nights.”
“Doesn’t anybody use it during the week?” Serena looked about, seeming less than overwhelmed by the old house’s decor.
“Sure. Tuesday morning Bible study. The monthly men’s breakfast. The Christian women’s group. The church quilters. It’s almost always in use.”
“Didn’t you say you live here?”
He nodded over his shoulder as he strode toward the kitchen. “I only use part of it. Hey, Tessa. Want to see the rest of the house?”
He looked back to see the child timidly investigating each room. The resemblance between the dark-haired pixie and her mother was amazing. She would be beautiful when she grew up. Although she’d been opening and closing the dining room blinds, when he spoke, Tessa accepted his hand and went with him to the kitchen.
“Mommy, there’s a refrigerator…and a stove.”
Serena watched the two of them—already buddies—feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks. Maybe volunteering was a good idea, after all.
“You’re right. Do you think there might be dishes in those cabinets?”
“Let’s see—” Tessa jerked the first door open. “Just pans.” The disappointment in her voice made both adults grin.
Andrew scooped Tessa up in his arms as if he’d done it every night of her life, whirling her about the room and stopping before each upper cabinet door so she could look inside. “They’re probably not as pretty as your mom’s dishes, but they work okay for me.”
“For you?” Tessa stopped opening doors long enough to look down at him. “Is this your house?”
He nodded. “Want to see my room?”
“Where is it?” She was already squirming to get out of his arms and investigate.
He pointed to the closed door off the kitchen. “There.” He fished a key out of his pocket and laid it in Tessa’s hand. She’d reached the lock, worked it and turned the knob before the grown-ups caught up with her.
Through the open doorway, Serena saw a smallish, blue-carpeted bedroom that had been converted to an apartment of sorts. On one wall was a roughly constructed wooden loft bed with a plaid recliner and end table beneath it. Both faced a little TV balanced on milk crates.
On the opposite wall was a set of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, built with the same primitive materials as the loft. The shelves were loaded, most of them stuffed two books deep. No more than three feet from the loft was a card table and chairs—a makeshift dinette.
Serena could feel Andrew’s eyes on her as she took in the details, but he didn’t try to interrupt her. His scrutiny made her neck feel warm.
“It’s not a mansion, but it meets my needs.”
She smiled, feeling the flush creep higher. “It looks great.” The simple awareness of him made her so uncomfortable that she scanned the room again for a distraction. Her gaze caught a Harley-Davidson poster behind the door that seemed so out of character for the stereotypical youth minister she’d created in her mind. She got the feeling there was more to Andrew Westin than she’d originally guessed.
She glanced back to find him leaning against the door, his arms crossed in a casual pose. “It’s really nice, but why don’t you use the rest of the house?” she asked. As far as she could tell, the little bathroom, the kitchen and his multipurpose room formed his apartment in only one-quarter of the square footage.
He shrugged. “There’s something about having my own space. You know what I mean?”
How odd that she did understand what he was saying. A few months ago she wouldn’t have had a clue. Now it was clear. Personal space was about being in control—taking control—when the world all around was going crazy. She would have said that to him, or at least tried to relate the connection that she felt, if not for the crash that came from the other side of the house.
“Duty calls.” He ushered them out of his room and turned the key before gesturing toward the locked door. “It never hurts to keep this room locked. It prevents the bed from mysteriously ending up short-sheeted and keeps my underwear from getting hung on the church flagpole. I wasn’t born yesterday. Thirty-three years ago, to be exact.” He headed toward the door. “We’d better greet the inmates.”
Serena followed behind him, pulling a suddenly shy Tessa. Curious about his comment, Serena spoke to his retreating back. “Do you know that stuff from personal experience?”
He looked back at her over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. She’d have to ask him about that later. She was pretty sure it would be a good story.
“All right, who banged the door?” he asked the crowd rushing through the entry.
A chorus of “not me” rang out, loud enough to rattle the shingles.
“Everyone, this is Serena and her daughter, Tessa.” He indicated the baker’s dozen of teens already filling the living room. “Serena, Tessa, this is everyone.”
A couple followed the kids through the door, their smiles as round as their middle-age waistlines. Assuming them to be the other two chaperones, Serena nodded to them, liking them on sight. She reached down to brush back her daughter’s hair—Tessa had attached herself to her leg.
“And Serena and Tessa, I’d like you to meet Robert and Diana Lidstrom, the coolest soon-to-be grandparents east of Lake Michigan.” Andrew gripped Robert’s hand and planted a kiss on Diana’s cheek in a single fluid motion. “I wouldn’t have considered tonight’s adventure without them.”
Diana winked at Serena. “We wouldn’t have volunteered for just anybody, either. I think it was Kentucky’s loss and Michigan’s gain that Andrew ended up here.”
Serena turned to him. “You’re from Kentucky? You don’t have the accent.”
He shrugged. “It’s Louisville. And I’ve worked hard to mask that accent.” He said “accent” with an exaggerated Southern drawl.
Seeming not to notice the other adults around him, Robert dropped to a crouch to be eye-to-eye with Tessa. “Hi, Tessa. Is this your first slumber party?”
Her shy nod led him to list the night’s fun activities. Tessa released her grip on her mother’s leg bit by bit, finally accepting Robert’s outstretched hand and his offer to go find the potato chips.
Diana gestured toward their retreating backs. “It will be just like that when she grows up. Some boy’s going to lead her away from you.”
Serena shivered at the thought of that eventuality, reminding herself this was the normal course of things. She couldn’t protect her daughter forever. “Don’t remind me.”
Diana patted her shoulder with a mother’s sympathy. “Oh, that’s months away from being a problem. How did Andrew twist your arm into being here tonight?”
“He bribed me with my choice of baby-sitters.”
Diana winked knowingly. “I hope he didn’t play on your sympathies and beg or anything.”
Andrew whisked through the room, his arms loaded with pizza boxes. He returned from the kitchen a few minutes later with a slice in hand. “Guilty as charged. A desperate man, you know. Did what I had to in order to get what I needed.”
Although he had spoken about her being a last-minute chaperone, the brief look he cast toward her made Serena wonder if there was something more to Andrew Westin’s interest in her, more than his need for a volunteer. She could have sworn the ball of nerves rumbling inside her was from anticipation. And she knew better than to allow herself to feel that way.
But knowing was powerless against the hope that sprouted in her heart.
Chapter Three
“Go, horsey, go.”
Tessa cracked a pretend whip on the shoulder of the make-believe stallion racing with her through the room. The equine creature more closely resembled a teenage girl with a long golden ponytail that bounced as she galloped. With a few waves and a whinny, horse and rider were off on another adventure.
“Giddy up, horsey, don’t be slow. Take my Tessa to the rodeo.”
Serena smiled, hearing her daughter repeat the rhyme they’d often say together. Tonight, her shy, clingy child of two hours before had transformed into the life of the party. The group’s new mascot, Tessa already had played Ping-Pong, her head barely over the table, and had been on a team in the game of Life so she could get help collecting “paydays.” They had even let her pick the next contemporary Christian CD for the boom box.
It felt so good to see Tessa laughing, having fun, just like any normal child. Serena felt almost normal, too, and it seemed like a first gasp of fresh air after years of holding her breath.
“Did I mention a truckload of potential baby-sitters would be here?” Andrew asked from over her shoulder.
She shook off the tremor that his closeness produced and insisted that the hairs on the back of her neck lay down. This was ridiculous. She was a grown-up here, not one of the kids.
“Why do you think I’m here? Who is that with Tessa now?”
“Only seventeen-year-old baby-sitter extraordinaire, Hannah Woods.” He turned to face Serena, watching her as if expecting her to react. “Think…Reverend Bob Woods.”
The preacher’s daughter. That couldn’t hurt. It already was obvious that Hannah was great with children. This night was turning out to be more successful than Serena had expected. “Does she baby-sit a lot?”
“I’m sure she will for you, if you need her to.”
Serena knew he was right. It was obvious Hannah adored Tessa. The two of them looked like old friends. Just seeing them together made Serena think about how nice it would be to get out of the house alone, once in a while, to run errands or grab a cup of coffee. Tessa would be in good hands.
“Hey, little cowgirl, do you need a fresh horse?” Andrew was already crouched low to prepare for a rider. “Your other one’s wearing out.”
A chair climb later, a successful exchange was made and they were off again, with Andrew in full trot. Seeing the two of them together tugged at Serena’s heart, her thoughts bittersweet. How much did Tessa miss having a father in her life since Trent had deserted them both for that other woman?
Had her memories of her dad begun to fade? Serena certainly hadn’t forgotten. It was just so much easier not to remember. As she watched Andrew and his rider, she remembered Tessa and Trent laughing together over a bathroom flooding with bubbles, and Daddy and daughter napping together on the sofa.
Tessa didn’t ask questions about her father, at least not yet. What would Serena tell her when she did? Was there a gaping hole in Tessa’s heart where a daddy should have been? Maybe someone like Andrew could fill that hole a little, or at least cover it with a bandage of compassion.
Watching the horse and his rider, Serena missed things she’d never had, longed for things she had no right to. Dreams emerged and danced off in various directions. She needed to shut away these thoughts before they led her to their only possible end—disappointment. She’d experienced enough of that to last a lifetime.
“Look at them go,” Diana said, coming up behind Serena and patting her shoulder. “Andrew’s such a doll. I’d do anything for him. He’s going to be a wonderful father one of these days.”
Serena stiffened. Was she so transparent that even an acquaintance could read her thoughts? How could she be considering only herself? She had no business entertaining selfish thoughts when Tessa needed to be her focus. What would happen if the JRA flared again? She couldn’t allow any distraction from her duty to her child.
“Look who is queen of the mountain.” Andrew approached, carrying Tessa on his shoulders. “Say something to your loyal subjects.”
Serena reached up and rustled Tessa’s already wild hair. “Better wave and turn over your scepter, sweetheart. It’s time for you to go night-night.” She prepared herself to have to drag away a kicking and screaming miniature queen, but Tessa climbed from one set of arms into the other and hugged her mom.
Tessa waved as Serena carried her through the house to the back bedroom that Andrew had unlocked. Once inside her Pooh sleeping bag, Tessa was asleep before they reached the last page of her bedtime story, but Serena read to the end, anyway. Brushing hair from her daughter’s face, Serena dropped a kiss on her forehead and slipped from the room to return to the party.
Her exhausted body begged for a spot beside Tessa in that minuscule sleeping bag, but she’d made a commitment and she planned to follow through. Maybe she could convince a few of the youth to watch that Charlie and the Chocolate Factory video, so she could catch a few winks in the back of the room. What a great idea. Serena gave the shrill whistle that her mother had always called “unladylike.”
“Thanks for the attention grabber, Serena,” Andrew called from across the room. “It’s nine-thirty. The party needs a fire built under it. Who wants to play Twister?”
It was well past noon by the time Andrew stared at his reflection in the bleary medicine cabinet mirror. It confirmed his suspicion. Even a Mack truck would have done a gentler makeover on his face. He should have slept like a baby after the last doughnut was munched and the last chip was sucked out of the carpet with the archaic vacuum.
But no, he just lay there in that pitiful square of a room, a series of still images flashing behind his eyelids in unending succession. Serena performing an award-worthy “parting of the Red Sea” clue in boys-versus-girls charades. Serena gathering that sweet little girl of hers into her arms in an embrace singularly shared between mothers and their children. Serena sneaking a look at him with what he couldn’t help but interpret as attraction.
He smiled into the mirror. That was the way he wanted to interpret it. The message she wished for him to read was probably something else. Something with the words Forget it attached firmly at the end. No, the look was probably just gratitude for his helping her climb out of the dumps. She’d even smiled a few times tonight, although never at him. It was beautiful all the same.
With the Father’s help, she could get through this difficult time in her life. She had only to ask for His help—something Andrew guessed was about the hardest thing ever for Serena to do. Why was it so important to him that she find her way? And why did he feel such a tug to be part of that path to discovery?
