A Blessed Life. Dana Corbit
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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