One
Her mom had been crying. That’s all Julie Emerson remembered about that day. Julie had gone to ask her a question, and when her mom had turned around, her face had been streaked with tears.
Julie’s question had caught in her throat, because the tears seemed so… sad. Whenever her little brother Mason cried, it was big, gulping sobs about how he’d scraped his knee, or Dad had beat him in a video game, or Julie had gotten more ice cream than him and it wasn’t fair. Julie herself had done her fair share of crying, usually when her parents were fighting or when her dad had drunk too much and was in one of his moods.
But she’d never seen her mom cry, not like this. Slow tears making their way one by one down her face, which was etched with more pain than Julie had ever seen in her nine years of life. She didn’t say anything, just stared at Julie with haunted eyes.
Julie was pretty sure her mom had hugged her after that. Or maybe that was just what she’d trained herself to believe over the past six years, because it was what she wanted to have happened. She wasn’t sure.
What she was sure of was that that memory was the last memory she had of her mom.
Because at some point within the next hour, her mom had taken a bottle of pain medication and died. Leaving Julie behind.
Forever.
Julie stared at the framed picture she was holding, the one that had triggered the memory. Her mom’s dark eyes were sparkling, and her face was full of a carefree lighthearteness that Julie couldn’t remember ever seeing in real life. If Julie hadn’t known that the woman in the picture was her mom, a year before Julie was born, she would’ve had a hard time believing it.
Why do I keep bringing this picture to every new place? she wondered. Why do I keep holding on to the image of someone who didn’t love me enough to stay alive? Someone who cared more about ending her own suffering than she did about being around for her own children? I hate her. I should throw this picture away and never look at it again.
Julie placed the picture in the backpack she was bringing with her to the new foster home.
“Yo.” The voice came from the doorway, and Julie looked up to see her little brother, Mason. At twelve years old, he still barely came up to Julie’s shoulder, and he was scrawny, all twiggy arms and legs. “You ready to go yet?”
“Do I look ready?” Julie’s voice held more bitterness than she felt. It wasn’t really Mason’s fault that all of this crap had happened in their lives. Yes, he was responsible for the fact that they were now foster children, and yes, it was he who’d requested the particular home they were headed to. But nobody could deny that foster homes were an improvement from the situation they’d come out of.
“You need to be ready soon,” Mason told her. “We’re getting picked up at three.”
“We’re getting picked up whenever we’re ready. It’s not like you and Mrs. Terryson are going to leave without me,” Julie retorted.
“Yeah, but Mrs. Terryson said three, so we can be at Ms. Bradka’s by four. We don’t want to keep her waiting.”
Ms. Bradka, Ms. Bradka, Ms. Bradka. That was all Mason had talked about for the last three days, ever since he and Julie had moved from their separate children’s homes to this very temporary foster placement. Julie, can you believe we get to go live with Ms. Bradka soon? Two weeks until we can see Ms. Bradka! I wonder if Ms. Bradka’s house is bigger or smaller than this one… do you think Ms. Bradka likes chicken parmesan?
Julie crammed her shirts into the backpack. “If Ms. Bradka’s really as wonderful and amazing as you say, she won’t mind being kept waiting.”
“Julie, you know Ms. Bradka. You know how cool she is.”
Julie didn’t respond. Ms. Bradka had worked at the school Julie and Mason had attended last year, and she and Mason had really hit it off, probably because Ms. Bradka was the only teacher who didn’t give Mason detention four days a week for being the worst-behaved kid in the school. Ms. Bradka had worked with Julie a bit too, and Julie had to admit that she was okay. Definitely nicer than a lot of the other teachers.
But that didn’t mean Julie wanted to live with her.
She huffed in irritation as she tossed the rest of her clothes into her tote bag. Mrs. Terryson and her therapist and everyone else kept saying how lucky Julie and Mason were to have someone who wanted to foster them so much that she’d gone through seven months of training, home studies and evaluations to be able to do it. They liked to bring up that Julie and Mason had been kicked out of the first three homes they’d been placed in, and had both been walking a thin line at their respective children’s homes. “You get to be together, and with someone who already knows you and cares about you,” Mrs. Terryson had said the last time Julie had seen her. “It’s hard to find a better situation than that.”
Julie zipped her bulging bag, wishing she had something to smoke or drink. A better situation than that would be if her mom was still alive, and her dad wasn’t abusive. If she and Mason could’ve had a normal family and a normal life.
But that wasn’t possible.
Julie sighed heavily and followed Mason to the living room, where their three-day foster parents stood talking to Mrs. Terryson, the social worker who’d been handling Julie and Mason’s case since they’d been taken away from their dad last May. Mrs. Terryson favored Julie and Mason with a smile. “All ready to go?”
“You bet,” Mason responded.
Julie remained silent.
Their foster parents bade them goodbye and wished them the best, and then Mrs. Terryson was ushering Julie and Mason out of the house and into her waiting car. Mason was beaming from ear to ear and asking Mrs. Terryson all kinds of questions as they drove away, but Julie tuned him out and stared listlessly at the gray January sky. Here we go, she thought. Next foster home. Next disaster.
Julie’s question had caught in her throat, because the tears seemed so… sad. Whenever her little brother Mason cried, it was big, gulping sobs about how he’d scraped his knee, or Dad had beat him in a video game, or Julie had gotten more ice cream than him and it wasn’t fair. Julie herself had done her fair share of crying, usually when her parents were fighting or when her dad had drunk too much and was in one of his moods.
But she’d never seen her mom cry, not like this. Slow tears making their way one by one down her face, which was etched with more pain than Julie had ever seen in her nine years of life. She didn’t say anything, just stared at Julie with haunted eyes.
Julie was pretty sure her mom had hugged her after that. Or maybe that was just what she’d trained herself to believe over the past six years, because it was what she wanted to have happened. She wasn’t sure.
What she was sure of was that that memory was the last memory she had of her mom.
Because at some point within the next hour, her mom had taken a bottle of pain medication and died. Leaving Julie behind.
Forever.
Julie stared at the framed picture she was holding, the one that had triggered the memory. Her mom’s dark eyes were sparkling, and her face was full of a carefree lighthearteness that Julie couldn’t remember ever seeing in real life. If Julie hadn’t known that the woman in the picture was her mom, a year before Julie was born, she would’ve had a hard time believing it.
Why do I keep bringing this picture to every new place? she wondered. Why do I keep holding on to the image of someone who didn’t love me enough to stay alive? Someone who cared more about ending her own suffering than she did about being around for her own children? I hate her. I should throw this picture away and never look at it again.
Julie placed the picture in the backpack she was bringing with her to the new foster home.
“Yo.” The voice came from the doorway, and Julie looked up to see her little brother, Mason. At twelve years old, he still barely came up to Julie’s shoulder, and he was scrawny, all twiggy arms and legs. “You ready to go yet?”
“Do I look ready?” Julie’s voice held more bitterness than she felt. It wasn’t really Mason’s fault that all of this crap had happened in their lives. Yes, he was responsible for the fact that they were now foster children, and yes, it was he who’d requested the particular home they were headed to. But nobody could deny that foster homes were an improvement from the situation they’d come out of.
“You need to be ready soon,” Mason told her. “We’re getting picked up at three.”
“We’re getting picked up whenever we’re ready. It’s not like you and Mrs. Terryson are going to leave without me,” Julie retorted.
“Yeah, but Mrs. Terryson said three, so we can be at Ms. Bradka’s by four. We don’t want to keep her waiting.”
Ms. Bradka, Ms. Bradka, Ms. Bradka. That was all Mason had talked about for the last three days, ever since he and Julie had moved from their separate children’s homes to this very temporary foster placement. Julie, can you believe we get to go live with Ms. Bradka soon? Two weeks until we can see Ms. Bradka! I wonder if Ms. Bradka’s house is bigger or smaller than this one… do you think Ms. Bradka likes chicken parmesan?
Julie crammed her shirts into the backpack. “If Ms. Bradka’s really as wonderful and amazing as you say, she won’t mind being kept waiting.”
“Julie, you know Ms. Bradka. You know how cool she is.”
Julie didn’t respond. Ms. Bradka had worked at the school Julie and Mason had attended last year, and she and Mason had really hit it off, probably because Ms. Bradka was the only teacher who didn’t give Mason detention four days a week for being the worst-behaved kid in the school. Ms. Bradka had worked with Julie a bit too, and Julie had to admit that she was okay. Definitely nicer than a lot of the other teachers.
But that didn’t mean Julie wanted to live with her.
She huffed in irritation as she tossed the rest of her clothes into her tote bag. Mrs. Terryson and her therapist and everyone else kept saying how lucky Julie and Mason were to have someone who wanted to foster them so much that she’d gone through seven months of training, home studies and evaluations to be able to do it. They liked to bring up that Julie and Mason had been kicked out of the first three homes they’d been placed in, and had both been walking a thin line at their respective children’s homes. “You get to be together, and with someone who already knows you and cares about you,” Mrs. Terryson had said the last time Julie had seen her. “It’s hard to find a better situation than that.”
Julie zipped her bulging bag, wishing she had something to smoke or drink. A better situation than that would be if her mom was still alive, and her dad wasn’t abusive. If she and Mason could’ve had a normal family and a normal life.
But that wasn’t possible.
Julie sighed heavily and followed Mason to the living room, where their three-day foster parents stood talking to Mrs. Terryson, the social worker who’d been handling Julie and Mason’s case since they’d been taken away from their dad last May. Mrs. Terryson favored Julie and Mason with a smile. “All ready to go?”
“You bet,” Mason responded.
Julie remained silent.
Their foster parents bade them goodbye and wished them the best, and then Mrs. Terryson was ushering Julie and Mason out of the house and into her waiting car. Mason was beaming from ear to ear and asking Mrs. Terryson all kinds of questions as they drove away, but Julie tuned him out and stared listlessly at the gray January sky. Here we go, she thought. Next foster home. Next disaster.
two
“All right, you guys,” Lauren Bradka faced her two roommates, who eyed her warily from their positions on the couch. “Today’s the day. We’re adding two more people to this household, and I expect you to be nice. No injuries, no attitudes, and no throwing up in their shoes like one of you did to my favorite pair of flats yesterday. Okay?”
Her audience was silent. Lauren held a straight face for about five seconds before bursting out laughing. Here she was, talking to her cats like they were people. She supposed it made sense, given that she hadn’t lived with any actual human beings for over a decade. But things were about to change. Starting today, her fur babies wouldn’t be the only other residents in Lauren’s apartment.
In just a few minutes, social services would be dropping off two foster children.
Lauren hurried down the hall to check the bedrooms one more time. She’d spent weeks trying to make them absolutely perfect for when Mason and Julie moved in. They’d be coming with very few possessions of their own, so Lauren had gone the extra mile to make sure the rooms felt homey and comfortable. For Mason, she’d purchased a blue bedspread and several posters of sports cars, as well as a small bookshelf on which she’d placed the Guinness Book of World Records and The Way Things Work alongside Diary of a Wimpy Kid and the first Harry Potter. Mason might not be the quickest to admit it, but he liked to read, and was into both facts and fiction.
Julie’s room had been harder, because Lauren didn’t know her as well as she knew Mason. She’d finally decided on a lavender bedspread and off-white curtains, as well as a decorative dresser set she’d found on sale at Walmart. It included a jewelry box, a necklace holder, and a handheld mirror, all decorated with light purple flowers that matched the bedspread. Lauren hoped Julie would like it, although she’d make sure to tell both kids that they could change their rooms’ décor if they wanted.
As she walked back to the living room, she reminisced about the sequence of events that had started it all. After being laid off from her longtime career as a graphic designer, she’d landed a job as a middle school teacher’s aide. Throughout the school year, she’d become particularly close with one of her students, a personable yet troubled boy named Mason. She’d tried to encourage him as much as possible, helping him see the good in himself when everyone else only saw his negative qualities. She’d been distraught the day Mason and his sister, Julie, disappeared from the school and she learned that they’d been being abused by their father.
But God worked all things out for good. Just a few months later, she’d received a call from a social worker, telling her that Mason had specifically requested her to be his and Julie’s new foster mom. Evidently, Mason and Julie had been through several foster homes already, each time being sent back to social services’ custody due to their behavior. “We normally don’t do this, contact private citizens and ask them to become foster parents,” the social worker, Kate, had sounded apologetic. “It’s actually against protocol… but Mason was insistent that you would be a good fit for them. He looked you up on the school website and told us to contact you… but you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I understand that this is a huge imposition and I’m actually embarrassed to even be doing this. We were just out of options for these two and I thought I might as well give you a try…”
It had taken Lauren all of thirty seconds, once the information had sunk in, to make her decision. “I’ll do it. I’ll foster them.”
Fostering wasn’t something she could jump into right away. She’d needed to go through months of classes, home visits, background checks and training sessions before she could receive her license from the Department of Child Services. She’d even had to move to a bigger apartment, since her old one-bedroom hadn’t been suitable. But finally, seven months down the road, here she was. Ready to welcome Mason and Julie into her home.
Someone knocked on her door. Lauren took a deep breath. Dear God, please let everything work out. Help me to be a good foster mom. Please let Mason and Julie like living here. Help me to give them what they need.
She opened the door and there they were—kids she hadn’t seen in nine months. Mason, though still short for his age, seemed to have grown a few inches. His chocolatey brown hair was longer, his bangs covering his eyes. Julie looked the same as Lauren remembered, her hair long and straight, her expression detached and disinterested.
Lauren wasn’t expecting the rush of emotion that enveloped her at the sight of them. For weeks after she’d found out what had happened to them, she’d expected to never see them again. But now here they were. About to live with her.
She wanted to hug them. Would that be appropriate? She’d learned in her training classes that teenage foster children were often resistant to affection, particularly if they’d experienced physical abuse. Would that be the case for these two?
“Hey guys,” Lauren said, tentatively opening up her arms. “It’s great to see you again.”
Mason hesitated, then stepped forward and fell into her arms, giving her a squeeze. “I missed you, Pizza,” he said in a tight voice, using the nickname he’d made up for her the day he’d joined her class.
“I missed you too, Chocolate,” Lauren choked out, tears coming to her eyes as a lump formed in her throat. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
They broke apart and Lauren turned to Julie, whose expression indicated that anyone who tried to hug her would regret it. Lauren swallowed the lump in her throat the best she could, and gave the girl a small smile. “I’m really glad you’re here too, Julie,” she said warmly.
“That makes one of us,” Julie’s voice was flat, the way it had been most of the times Lauren had worked with her at school. Lauren’s heart broke for her now just as it had back then. Mason had his ups and downs, but was usually pretty transparent about his feelings. Julie masked all of her emotions behind dead eyes and an impassive face.
“Lauren, I’d like to step inside for a moment so we can go over a few things,” the third person on the doorstep, social worker Kate Terryson, spoke up. “Then you can help the kids get settled.”
Lauren nodded and led the way into her apartment, excitement building up despite Julie’s lack of enthusiasm. They were finally here. This was the reason God had led her to work at their school. No matter what happened, everything was going to work out just fine.
Her audience was silent. Lauren held a straight face for about five seconds before bursting out laughing. Here she was, talking to her cats like they were people. She supposed it made sense, given that she hadn’t lived with any actual human beings for over a decade. But things were about to change. Starting today, her fur babies wouldn’t be the only other residents in Lauren’s apartment.
In just a few minutes, social services would be dropping off two foster children.
Lauren hurried down the hall to check the bedrooms one more time. She’d spent weeks trying to make them absolutely perfect for when Mason and Julie moved in. They’d be coming with very few possessions of their own, so Lauren had gone the extra mile to make sure the rooms felt homey and comfortable. For Mason, she’d purchased a blue bedspread and several posters of sports cars, as well as a small bookshelf on which she’d placed the Guinness Book of World Records and The Way Things Work alongside Diary of a Wimpy Kid and the first Harry Potter. Mason might not be the quickest to admit it, but he liked to read, and was into both facts and fiction.
Julie’s room had been harder, because Lauren didn’t know her as well as she knew Mason. She’d finally decided on a lavender bedspread and off-white curtains, as well as a decorative dresser set she’d found on sale at Walmart. It included a jewelry box, a necklace holder, and a handheld mirror, all decorated with light purple flowers that matched the bedspread. Lauren hoped Julie would like it, although she’d make sure to tell both kids that they could change their rooms’ décor if they wanted.
As she walked back to the living room, she reminisced about the sequence of events that had started it all. After being laid off from her longtime career as a graphic designer, she’d landed a job as a middle school teacher’s aide. Throughout the school year, she’d become particularly close with one of her students, a personable yet troubled boy named Mason. She’d tried to encourage him as much as possible, helping him see the good in himself when everyone else only saw his negative qualities. She’d been distraught the day Mason and his sister, Julie, disappeared from the school and she learned that they’d been being abused by their father.
But God worked all things out for good. Just a few months later, she’d received a call from a social worker, telling her that Mason had specifically requested her to be his and Julie’s new foster mom. Evidently, Mason and Julie had been through several foster homes already, each time being sent back to social services’ custody due to their behavior. “We normally don’t do this, contact private citizens and ask them to become foster parents,” the social worker, Kate, had sounded apologetic. “It’s actually against protocol… but Mason was insistent that you would be a good fit for them. He looked you up on the school website and told us to contact you… but you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I understand that this is a huge imposition and I’m actually embarrassed to even be doing this. We were just out of options for these two and I thought I might as well give you a try…”
It had taken Lauren all of thirty seconds, once the information had sunk in, to make her decision. “I’ll do it. I’ll foster them.”
Fostering wasn’t something she could jump into right away. She’d needed to go through months of classes, home visits, background checks and training sessions before she could receive her license from the Department of Child Services. She’d even had to move to a bigger apartment, since her old one-bedroom hadn’t been suitable. But finally, seven months down the road, here she was. Ready to welcome Mason and Julie into her home.
Someone knocked on her door. Lauren took a deep breath. Dear God, please let everything work out. Help me to be a good foster mom. Please let Mason and Julie like living here. Help me to give them what they need.
She opened the door and there they were—kids she hadn’t seen in nine months. Mason, though still short for his age, seemed to have grown a few inches. His chocolatey brown hair was longer, his bangs covering his eyes. Julie looked the same as Lauren remembered, her hair long and straight, her expression detached and disinterested.
Lauren wasn’t expecting the rush of emotion that enveloped her at the sight of them. For weeks after she’d found out what had happened to them, she’d expected to never see them again. But now here they were. About to live with her.
She wanted to hug them. Would that be appropriate? She’d learned in her training classes that teenage foster children were often resistant to affection, particularly if they’d experienced physical abuse. Would that be the case for these two?
“Hey guys,” Lauren said, tentatively opening up her arms. “It’s great to see you again.”
Mason hesitated, then stepped forward and fell into her arms, giving her a squeeze. “I missed you, Pizza,” he said in a tight voice, using the nickname he’d made up for her the day he’d joined her class.
“I missed you too, Chocolate,” Lauren choked out, tears coming to her eyes as a lump formed in her throat. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
They broke apart and Lauren turned to Julie, whose expression indicated that anyone who tried to hug her would regret it. Lauren swallowed the lump in her throat the best she could, and gave the girl a small smile. “I’m really glad you’re here too, Julie,” she said warmly.
“That makes one of us,” Julie’s voice was flat, the way it had been most of the times Lauren had worked with her at school. Lauren’s heart broke for her now just as it had back then. Mason had his ups and downs, but was usually pretty transparent about his feelings. Julie masked all of her emotions behind dead eyes and an impassive face.
“Lauren, I’d like to step inside for a moment so we can go over a few things,” the third person on the doorstep, social worker Kate Terryson, spoke up. “Then you can help the kids get settled.”
Lauren nodded and led the way into her apartment, excitement building up despite Julie’s lack of enthusiasm. They were finally here. This was the reason God had led her to work at their school. No matter what happened, everything was going to work out just fine.
four
Aleah Matthews’s heart began pumping a strange rhythm as she watched the blue SUV pull into her driveway. He was here. It was time to go to school.
She opened her mouth to call out her children’s names, but slowly closed it, watching him get out of the vehicle. Tall, brown-haired, and bespectacled, wearing a thick winter coat over his sensible sweater and jeans, he looked more than ready for yet another semester of pre-med classes.
And more handsome than ever.
Aleah swallowed, pushing back that intrusive thought. Bobby Methrusa was her friend—one of her best friends, if she was honest with herself. He lived only a few streets away, and she’d hung out with him several times over Christmas break—always accompanied by her children and at least one of his many siblings. During the fall semester preceding that, they’d seen each other less, due to their conflicting busy schedules, but they’d still found time to occasionally grab lunch or walk around the neighborhood together. Though their time together had been sporadic, Aleah had enjoyed every minute of it, and she knew Bobby had too.
Yes, she reminded herself. Because friends enjoy spending time together. And that’s what Bobby and I are; what we’ll always be. Friends.
He rang the doorbell. Aleah walked down to the split-level entry to open the door, but barely had time to say hello before four-year-old Austin and three-year-old Anna came barreling out from their room to wrap themselves around Bobby’s legs. “Bobby!” they squealed.
Bobby leaned down to hug them, greeting them with a large, genuine smile. “How are you doing this morning?” he asked them.
“I’m happy, ‘cause you get to take us to school!” chirped Austin.
“Me too,” said Anna. “I’m really really happy.”
Bobby straightened up and smiled at Aleah. “And how about you? Do we have a third ‘happy’?”
Aleah felt the corners of her mouth turning up, and she bit the inside of her cheeks to keep her smile from becoming too wide. “I’m happy that by the end of this semester, I’ll be halfway to earning my degree.”
The slightest disappointment flashed in Bobby’s eyes. She knew he’d been hoping she’d confess to being happy that they were carpooling again, like they’d done for the last couple months of last year’s spring semester. The nature of their schedules had made carpooling impractical throughout the fall, but now here they were again, their Tuesday and Thursday classes lining up in an almost perfect match. Aleah was happy about it, but with that happiness came trepidation.
Trepidation because no matter how much he tried to hide it, Aleah could tell Bobby still had feelings for her.
It’s fine, she told herself. You told him you only want to be friends. He’s respected that so far; he’s going to keep respecting it. Nothing’s going to change.
“Go get your backpacks,” she directed her children, hoisting her own backpack off its hook by the entryway. The kids ran back up the stairs, and Aleah was left alone with Bobby.
“Looking forward to your classes?” he asked.
Aleah nodded. She had finished most of her general education courses, so now that she was entering the second semester of her sophomore year, almost all of her classes would be directly related to her nursing major. “Are you looking forward to yours?”
“For sure. Lots of labs this semester. I like the hands-on stuff better than the book-learning stuff.” Bobby was one year ahead of Aleah, pursuing an Anatomy and Physiology degree that would put him on course toward becoming a pediatrician.
The kids returned with their backpacks, and Aleah bent down to help them with their shoes. After tying Anna’s, she turned to do Austin’s, only to discover that they were already tied. “Bobby did mine, Mommy,” Austin giggled. “Didn’t you see?”
Aleah gave Bobby a look, not sure why she was feeling so flustered. “You didn’t need to do that,” she mumbled.
Bobby shrugged. “Just trying to expedite the process.”
They headed to the car, where Aleah buckled her children into their carseats before sliding into the passenger seat next to Bobby. A moment later, they were off.
“What do you think?” Bobby asked, glancing into the rearview mirror and grinning at Austin and Anna. “Do we want some Wee Sing Bible Songs? Or I brought a Veggie Tales CD. Or do you guys have any fun stories to share with me?”
“One of my friends from school said her daddy’s going give her a real live dinosaur!” Austin shared. “I said I don’t think that’s true, ‘cause dinosaurs aren’t alive anymore, but she said her daddy promised.”
“Do you think he meant a stuffed animal dinosaur?” Bobby asked. “Or a plastic toy?”
“She said a real live dinosaur,” Austin maintained. “If I could have any pet in the world, I’d get a giraffe. They’re taller than the whole house!”
Bobby chuckled. “Where would your giraffe live, if he’s taller than the whole house?”
“At your house,” Austin replied as if it were obvious.
Aleah caught Bobby’s eye and they laughed together. Austin’s logic made sense, in a four-year-old way. Bobby’s house, equipped for himself, his parents, and his eleven siblings, was quite a bit taller than Aleah’s.
The conversation about imaginary pets continued until they reached Little Rainbows Childcare Center, where Aleah delivered Austin and Anna to their respective preschool classrooms. Then she rejoined Bobby in the SUV, acutely aware that it was their first time truly alone together in over half a year.
“Hey, I meant to ask you,” Bobby said as they pulled out of the parking lot. “You said last month that you were going to see about starting up that girls’ group you’ve been wanting to do. Any progress on that?”
Aleah smiled, unencumbered excitement building up as she thought about the counseling group she was starting. When her friend Rebecca had suggested the idea nearly a year ago, Aleah had thought it sounded crazy. An untrained 20-year-old with a sordid past, meeting weekly with at-risk teenage girls to pray with them and give advice? But the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d liked it. She’d discussed the idea with her stepfather, Pastor Steve, and he’d given her permission to start running it through their church.
“We’re going to start meeting next week,” she told Bobby. “Just at church, for now. Pastor Steve emailed the congregation and found a couple girls who were interested, and Rebecca’s going to come as kind of an extra mentor. Hopefully once we get it established this way, we can start reaching out into the greater community.”
“That’s so cool,” Bobby remarked. “I love that you’re doing that. Volunteering your time to give others what they need.”
“It’s something I could’ve benefited from, back before I knew Christ,” Aleah said softly. “Maybe if I’d had someone to talk to, or some positive role model in my life, I wouldn’t have made the choices I made.” Aleah still regretted the years she’d spent living a wild and rebellious lifestyle—first spending every afternoon in bed with her then-boyfriend, Jared, and then after he dumped her, spending her nights partying and hooking up with as many guys as possible. But God had brought good out of her poor choices—He’d given her Austin and Anna. And now He was giving her the opportunity to speak hope and life into girls who might be heading down a similar path.
She could tell Bobby was thinking along the same lines when he said, “I love how God works. Using everything, good and bad, to accomplish His purposes and bring people closer to Him… it’s awesome.”
“It is,” Aleah agreed. “He’s awesome.”
And as they continued to talk about all the wonderful things God had done, Aleah had to reflect that this—carpooling with one of her best friends for two days every single week—was pretty awesome too.
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She opened her mouth to call out her children’s names, but slowly closed it, watching him get out of the vehicle. Tall, brown-haired, and bespectacled, wearing a thick winter coat over his sensible sweater and jeans, he looked more than ready for yet another semester of pre-med classes.
And more handsome than ever.
Aleah swallowed, pushing back that intrusive thought. Bobby Methrusa was her friend—one of her best friends, if she was honest with herself. He lived only a few streets away, and she’d hung out with him several times over Christmas break—always accompanied by her children and at least one of his many siblings. During the fall semester preceding that, they’d seen each other less, due to their conflicting busy schedules, but they’d still found time to occasionally grab lunch or walk around the neighborhood together. Though their time together had been sporadic, Aleah had enjoyed every minute of it, and she knew Bobby had too.
Yes, she reminded herself. Because friends enjoy spending time together. And that’s what Bobby and I are; what we’ll always be. Friends.
He rang the doorbell. Aleah walked down to the split-level entry to open the door, but barely had time to say hello before four-year-old Austin and three-year-old Anna came barreling out from their room to wrap themselves around Bobby’s legs. “Bobby!” they squealed.
Bobby leaned down to hug them, greeting them with a large, genuine smile. “How are you doing this morning?” he asked them.
“I’m happy, ‘cause you get to take us to school!” chirped Austin.
“Me too,” said Anna. “I’m really really happy.”
Bobby straightened up and smiled at Aleah. “And how about you? Do we have a third ‘happy’?”
Aleah felt the corners of her mouth turning up, and she bit the inside of her cheeks to keep her smile from becoming too wide. “I’m happy that by the end of this semester, I’ll be halfway to earning my degree.”
The slightest disappointment flashed in Bobby’s eyes. She knew he’d been hoping she’d confess to being happy that they were carpooling again, like they’d done for the last couple months of last year’s spring semester. The nature of their schedules had made carpooling impractical throughout the fall, but now here they were again, their Tuesday and Thursday classes lining up in an almost perfect match. Aleah was happy about it, but with that happiness came trepidation.
Trepidation because no matter how much he tried to hide it, Aleah could tell Bobby still had feelings for her.
It’s fine, she told herself. You told him you only want to be friends. He’s respected that so far; he’s going to keep respecting it. Nothing’s going to change.
“Go get your backpacks,” she directed her children, hoisting her own backpack off its hook by the entryway. The kids ran back up the stairs, and Aleah was left alone with Bobby.
“Looking forward to your classes?” he asked.
Aleah nodded. She had finished most of her general education courses, so now that she was entering the second semester of her sophomore year, almost all of her classes would be directly related to her nursing major. “Are you looking forward to yours?”
“For sure. Lots of labs this semester. I like the hands-on stuff better than the book-learning stuff.” Bobby was one year ahead of Aleah, pursuing an Anatomy and Physiology degree that would put him on course toward becoming a pediatrician.
The kids returned with their backpacks, and Aleah bent down to help them with their shoes. After tying Anna’s, she turned to do Austin’s, only to discover that they were already tied. “Bobby did mine, Mommy,” Austin giggled. “Didn’t you see?”
Aleah gave Bobby a look, not sure why she was feeling so flustered. “You didn’t need to do that,” she mumbled.
Bobby shrugged. “Just trying to expedite the process.”
They headed to the car, where Aleah buckled her children into their carseats before sliding into the passenger seat next to Bobby. A moment later, they were off.
“What do you think?” Bobby asked, glancing into the rearview mirror and grinning at Austin and Anna. “Do we want some Wee Sing Bible Songs? Or I brought a Veggie Tales CD. Or do you guys have any fun stories to share with me?”
“One of my friends from school said her daddy’s going give her a real live dinosaur!” Austin shared. “I said I don’t think that’s true, ‘cause dinosaurs aren’t alive anymore, but she said her daddy promised.”
“Do you think he meant a stuffed animal dinosaur?” Bobby asked. “Or a plastic toy?”
“She said a real live dinosaur,” Austin maintained. “If I could have any pet in the world, I’d get a giraffe. They’re taller than the whole house!”
Bobby chuckled. “Where would your giraffe live, if he’s taller than the whole house?”
“At your house,” Austin replied as if it were obvious.
Aleah caught Bobby’s eye and they laughed together. Austin’s logic made sense, in a four-year-old way. Bobby’s house, equipped for himself, his parents, and his eleven siblings, was quite a bit taller than Aleah’s.
The conversation about imaginary pets continued until they reached Little Rainbows Childcare Center, where Aleah delivered Austin and Anna to their respective preschool classrooms. Then she rejoined Bobby in the SUV, acutely aware that it was their first time truly alone together in over half a year.
“Hey, I meant to ask you,” Bobby said as they pulled out of the parking lot. “You said last month that you were going to see about starting up that girls’ group you’ve been wanting to do. Any progress on that?”
Aleah smiled, unencumbered excitement building up as she thought about the counseling group she was starting. When her friend Rebecca had suggested the idea nearly a year ago, Aleah had thought it sounded crazy. An untrained 20-year-old with a sordid past, meeting weekly with at-risk teenage girls to pray with them and give advice? But the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d liked it. She’d discussed the idea with her stepfather, Pastor Steve, and he’d given her permission to start running it through their church.
“We’re going to start meeting next week,” she told Bobby. “Just at church, for now. Pastor Steve emailed the congregation and found a couple girls who were interested, and Rebecca’s going to come as kind of an extra mentor. Hopefully once we get it established this way, we can start reaching out into the greater community.”
“That’s so cool,” Bobby remarked. “I love that you’re doing that. Volunteering your time to give others what they need.”
“It’s something I could’ve benefited from, back before I knew Christ,” Aleah said softly. “Maybe if I’d had someone to talk to, or some positive role model in my life, I wouldn’t have made the choices I made.” Aleah still regretted the years she’d spent living a wild and rebellious lifestyle—first spending every afternoon in bed with her then-boyfriend, Jared, and then after he dumped her, spending her nights partying and hooking up with as many guys as possible. But God had brought good out of her poor choices—He’d given her Austin and Anna. And now He was giving her the opportunity to speak hope and life into girls who might be heading down a similar path.
She could tell Bobby was thinking along the same lines when he said, “I love how God works. Using everything, good and bad, to accomplish His purposes and bring people closer to Him… it’s awesome.”
“It is,” Aleah agreed. “He’s awesome.”
And as they continued to talk about all the wonderful things God had done, Aleah had to reflect that this—carpooling with one of her best friends for two days every single week—was pretty awesome too.
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New Chance is the second installment in the New Life series.
Click here to learn about the first book, New Life.
Click here to learn about the first book, New Life.
